


Is This Seat Taken

by Amythesica



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Female Severus Snape, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Grow Up Together, I hate commas, I was writing, I'm Sorry, Not Beta Read, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Sirius FAILS at being a good wingman, Sirius Tries, Sirius tries so hard to be a good wing-man, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and then Severus was Severna, i really don't know how that happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amythesica/pseuds/Amythesica
Summary: Professor, the writing on my stomach…what is it?Ahh, those are your Soul Words, Mr. Riddle.My Soul Words? What does that mean? What are they?Those Words written on your body, are the first words that your Soulmate will ever speak to you.UPDATE 01/29/2020: If you've read before this, I realized that I missed placing a scene in Part 4. It's not super necessary, but, it's also one that is kind of needed. I'm sorry. It was early when I was posting it. It's there now though.
Relationships: Female Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Female Severus Snape/Sirius Black, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 76
Kudos: 1006
Collections: severitus fic collection





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I have a small (read: extraordinarily LARGE) obsession with Soulmates. I just like the thought that there's someone out there who will love you for who you are. Heaven knows it'll take a certain type of man to actually put up with me on my good days AND bad days.
> 
> Anyway, as mentioned in In My Dreams, this was written FOUR times (TT__TT). I had a beta reader (my mom) and she said she wanted more, so, you got more until I decided that most of it was fine the way it was because I wouldn't be able to write it without turning it into some large monstrosity like In My Dreams.

_Professor, the writing on my stomach…what is it?_

_Ahh, those are your Soul Words, Mr. Riddle._

_My Soul Words? What does that mean? What are they?_

_Those Words written on your body, are the first words that your Soulmate will ever speak to you._

* * *

_First Year_

“Is this seat taken?”

The sharp breath caught painfully in Tom’s throat as his head snapped up from his book and towards the door at the softly spoken words. His eyes were wide, and his heart thundered painfully in his chest. His hand pressed against the skin below his navel over his shirt as something hot, wild, and primal stirred deep within him and quickly rose to the surface.

_Mine_.

He mutely shook his head as the words that had been spoken to him by an old, graying woman who told him that he was a wizard rang in his head.

_…Soulmate…_

“No, go ahead.”

The pretty girl’s eyes widened before a breathtaking grin spread across her face and caused the primordial feelings to stir once more and move even closer to his skin than they had been before. She hesitantly stepped into the compartment and sat down on the bench across from him and next to the window.

They sat in was painful and uncertain silence while they stared at each other. The sound of the train as it clacked along old, metal strips and cracked, wooden ties that were held together entirely by Magic brought only a semi-soothing rhythm.

As he stared at the black-haired girl, he could help but wonder if the same ancient, and possessive feelings that ate at him, ate at her. He could feel the uncomfortable gnawing on everything he thought he knew, who he was, as they remade him whole with her at his very center.

Just when the uncertainty got to near excruciating, the loud thump of a bird as it slammed into the window started the two children out of their shocked and possessive—on his part—stares. He went back to his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook—it was the second time he’d read it (he’d already read his other school books and had nothing else to read)—while she pulled out what appeared to be their potion’s textbook.

“My name’s Hera,” she said after he had read two and a half chapters.

He glanced up from the crisp pages and saw that she had a white-knuckled grip on what was indeed the potions textbook. Her middle fingernails picked at the cuticles of her pointer fingernails while her straight teeth gnawed on her full bottom lip.

“Tom. Tom Riddle,” he offered after a moment when his gaze moved to her bright green eyes.

She visibly relaxed, and her lip was released from its confines and she smiled at him once more. She gestured to his book with her chin. “Do you like Defense?”

He shrugged his left shoulder. “I’m not entirely sure. It seems like it could be extremely useful in the future. Do you like Potions?” he asked as he nodded to her own book.

She wrinkled her small nose, and his lips twitched into a small smile. “Not particularly, no. My godmother is the Potion’s Master and Professor, and she made it _very_ clear that if I wasn’t ahead by my first lesson, there would be punishments to be had.”

When his eyes widened, she quickly and frantically started to babble as her face turned a delicate and delightful shade of pink. He kept his face straight, even as a not entirely foreign—but also not comfortable—emotion started to burn inside of him.

“I mean, she loves me, and she’d never hurt me—” Primal, possessive _anger_ drove his heart into overtime at the thought of _anyone_ hurting her. “—and I’m _pretty_ sure she was just teasing—”

Amusement.

That vaguely familiar, and slightly uncomfortable emotion that overrode the ancient instincts that feasted upon his flesh and mind…was amusement. How strange. Her frantic words ceased when he started to laugh. It wasn’t loud, or even like most children their age laughed—it was just a soft huff of air as his lips spread into a small smile.

“It’s fine, Hera—” Something in him sang viciously at the taste of her name on his tongue “—I believe that your godmother _was_ just teasing you,” he said in an attempt—his first ever—to calm the girl—his _Soulmate_?—down.

It worked…how strange.

He was silent for a moment, as he savored her name on his tongue, and her titles in his mind.

He needed more.

“Do you have a subject that you like, Hera?” Nothing could ever taste as sweet as her name on his lips.

“Defense. I absolutely adore it. My godfather is an Auror and he tries to teach me some of the theory behind his spells every once in a while, despite what Severna says. Do you have a favorite subject?”

This was the longest conversation he had had without him trying to get something out of it. Wait. Did the calming her down count as self-gain?

Perhaps.

He shrugged softly. “I’m not entirely sure. I found out about Magic this summer.”

She tilted her head to the side, as an odd light filled her eyes—he had never seen anything like it before (although it looked very close to excitement). “Are you muggle-raised?”

He thought for a moment at the odd phrasing of the question—he quickly remembered that those without magic were called muggles. “Yes…I suppose I am.”

She smiled, and her eyes glittered with something he thought might be joy—he hadn’t seen it before, and if he had, he didn’t remember it. “I look forward to getting to know about your world, just as I look forward to teaching you about our world. Tell me, what is the purpose behind a metal bang-bang block? Sirius mentioned it once after he ran into it during a mission and brought it home. He didn’t know what it was, and he thought Severna might know because she was raised around muggles. I never saw the metal bang-bang block because my godmother banished it before I could. He said that it shot little U-shaped pieces of metal towards someone, and that it really hurt when the pieces of metal actually hit their target.”

Another huff of laughter left him—this one closer to how the children at the orphanage laughed. “I believe he either found a staple-gun or a stapler. Neither of those objects are meant to be pointed at people.” He couldn’t help the small bout of laughter.

He adored the look of awe on her face. He stopped laughing, and understanding lit her face, and he was once more remade with her at his center as the primordial and lush feelings amplified.

“That’s why Severna made him sleep on the couch for a week and wore those bandages on her arm!”

He laughed, and she joined in, and he understood her feelings of awe when he had laughed.

He was never letting her go.

* * *

Hera didn’t know what happened, and she didn’t like whatever _had_ happened.

They had been friendly on the train ride to school, but now, a mere week into the school term, her Soulmate refused to even look at her. What hurt the most, was when he’d see her, stop and stare for a moment, and then practically run away after something akin to pain would cross his face.

Sure, he was a Slytherin, but that didn’t matter. Severna was a Slytherin, and Sirius was a Gryffindor. If those two could have a perfectly happy marriage—as long as metal bang-bang blocks weren’t involved (or mentioned)—surely a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin would work…right?

She stopped lingering in the dungeons, and moved into the potion’s classroom. She didn’t know why she thought he would be there. It was breakfast. She moved past her busy godmother—she had been skipping meals and hiding in the potion’s classroom, and Severna would stay with her (and if not her, Sirius would floo over to do so)—and to her large desk in the front of the room and plopped onto the large chair.

She watched her godmother tinker around the dark and dreary room—it had to be that way so the potion ingredients wouldn’t sour—before she squished her head against the wooden desk. She listened to the familiar and comforting sounds of her godmother prepping for class—she was often snuck in under her father’s Invisibility Cloak when she was a kid and sick and Sirius couldn’t get off work—which also happened to be the first class with the first year Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Eventually, the sounds grew to be _not_ comforting, and she propped her head, so her chin rested on the desk instead of her face. “I don’t know what to do, mama!” she bemoaned just as her stomach grumbled. She had been feeling far too ill to eat the last couple of days—it hurt to sit at the table and see her Soulmate pick at his food while he resolutely kept his eyes away from her.

Her godmother tinkered for a moment longer before she moved towards her. Long calloused fingers ran through her hair and deftly tied it back and away from her face in a high pony tail. “What about, my sweetling?” When it was just the family, her voice was warm and smooth, but when others were around—especially students—it was cold and stilted.

Her hair was tugged as Severna ran her fingers through her hair, and Hera concluded that she was braiding her hair. “Tom,” she cried softly. Her hair was wrapped around the base of the pony tail and spelled into place. She turned on the swivel chair and was slightly distracted by her godmother’s diamond necklace—a gift from her godfather at the beginning of the school year, and matched her own.

The silver and diamond necklace around her godmother’s neck was in the shape of a coiled snake, ready to strike, yet somehow remained delicate. The snake’s eyes were small emeralds, and she often thought if she stared hard enough, they’d glint at her in a wink.

The necklace around her own neck was in the shape of an eagle with its wings spread. Unlike her godmother’s necklace, hers was made of a silver-bronze alloy, and had sapphires on the wing tips, and had two small bronze diamonds for eyes.

“What about Tom, sweetling?”

“He won’t even look at me. I mean, we were friendly on the train, and the boats, and even up until we were Sorted, but now he won’t even talk to me,” she complained. She turned back to the desk and tried once more to bury her face into the hard-oak wood of the desk. She felt close to tears and bit her cheek to keep herself from crying.

She was gently tugged away from the desk and the chair turned once more so she now faced her kneeling godmother. “Oh, my sweetling. Come here.” She eagerly went to her godmother’s arms. “Do you remember the stories of how Sirius and I got on while _we_ were in school?”

She nodded her head and pulled away from her embrace. Hands cupped her cheeks and she leaned into them. “Yes. He was an utter prat towards you.”

Severna laughed and ran a thin hand along her hair before she went back to holding her face. “Yes, he was. But, after your parents—” her voice choked like it always did “—died, we realized that we were being completely foolish. It took us years before we got to the point where we could completely forgive each other for everything we said and did while we were children.”

“I remember being the flower-girl at your wedding,” she mentioned idly as she played with Severna’s fingers. She had been six at the time, and despite the two Romantic Mates marrying, there had been a certain tenseness to their interactions that had lasted another year. The process had been sped up at having Hera in the center of most of their interactions.

It had been a very…crowded year, never having alone time, and always being the buffer for fights. But eventually, she had stopped being the center of each and every interaction, and finally got some time to herself—where she either hid in the library or on the Quidditch pitch (both choices heavily influenced by those she lived with).

The woman smiled and stroked her cheek lovingly. “You were so beautiful that day. You look so much like your mother. Except for this hair. That’s all your father’s doing,” she teased softly as she pulled on the wild, dark locks that had already fallen out of the bun.

Hera nuzzled into her godmother’s grasp, and ignored the familiar pain in her chest whenever her parents were mentioned—it wasn’t because she missed them though. “Will you tell me about her sometime?” she asked, almost desperately. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about her, but…I don’t know. I just…I remember so little of her and dad.”

It was too painful a topic for her godparents.

Severna smiled, and Hera swore that nothing in the night sky could ever shine as brightly as her dark eyes had in that moment. “I would love to tell you about her. But first, you have class. Did you read ahead like I told you to?”

“Yes, mama.” She desperately tried to keep from rolling her eyes and nearly cheered when she succeeded.

“Could you tell me the properties of these roots, and what this potion is?” she asked as four jars and a single vial floated over to the large desk. They silently settled on the wood in front of her. She groaned quietly, but did as asked. “Flawless, my dear. Absolutely flawless.”

When class started, she was disappointed when Tom sat as far away from her—but still in the front—as possible while one of her dorm mates, Hermione Granger, sat next to her.

But, in the long run, it wasn’t something she was _too_ upset about.

* * *

“Good morning, class. Today we’re going to be doing something a little bit different,” Severna said once all of her students were in the classroom. She knew that her goddaughter would most likely kill her for doing this—and by consequence, maybe even her godson (he was forever overprotective of his younger god-sister. But, it had been… _was_ truly painful to watch the two children dance around each other for the last three months.

She and Sirius found _endless_ amusement in the fact that they both had Silver Words.

“Today, we’re going to be working on a little bit of House unity. On the board, I have already paired you with a partner, and together you will start on the research for the Elixir of Clarity.”

She waved her wand and the names appeared paired with another student’s name. She watched Hera and nearly laughed when her face paled and began to rapidly look between her and Riddle before she decided that Death by Glare was sufficient for the moment.

Severna only smiled sweetly and motioned with her hand and her goddaughter reluctantly moved to sit next to Tom.

Yes, she definitely needed to tell Sirius about this, she thought when Tom reached out to grab Hera’s hand, panic on his face—she didn’t see emotion often on the boy, and it was nice to see it.

She also probably needed to sleep with her eyes open.

| ~~}(TMR){~~ |

_So, you think you’re good enough for Hera, do you mudblood?_

_What do you mean?_

_She’s a Pureblood. Purebloods don’t marry mudbloods,_ mudblood _. She’s just playing with you. And if you know what’s best for you, before_ I _play with you, you’ll leave her alone._

_If she’s just playing around with me, why do you care, Malfoy?_

The conversation of his first night at school between himself and Draco Malfoy ran in his ears as Hera—Potter-Black reluctantly moved to sit next to him.

“Hi,” she mumbled softly.

Primal urges rose in him at having her so close to him after going so long with her gone. “Hi, Hera.” Her name still tasted as sweet as before.

They sat in agonizingly awkward silence as they turned to the required page. Hera slumped next to him. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I’m going to _kill_ ma—Severna for doing this.”

“Why?”

His heart hurt.

“Because…. Well…you obviously don’t want to be around me. I don’t know what I did to make that happen. I—uh…I might have asked her for advice on what to do after school started, and this is apparently her solution. If you don’t want to be associated with me…I…. I understand. I’ll have her change it.”

She moved to stand, and in a blind panic fueled by ancient instincts, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Was that tingling normal?

(something deep within him purred at the contact)

“No, it’s fine. I—I don’t mind. I want to be with you, Hera,” he said softly.

_But…I know someone who does mind_ , he thought when he heard Malfoy hissing behind them, attempting to get his or Hera’s attention.

She smiled and sat down, and together they started to work, and unknowingly slid closer together until their shoulders touched.

No personal information was exchanged between the pair, but something had shifted. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know the other’s dislikes and likes.

He was content to have her by his side.

For now.

* * *

Hera and Hedwig were in the middle of an intense staring match.

The package was held tightly in her hands, and the old, faithful owl had continuously tried to pluck it from her fingers, only to miserably fail, and had tried until the two had ended up in their current situation.

“Sweetling, have you sent the gift—” Severna cut off as she and Sirius walked into the room with their arms wrapped around each other. Out of the corner of her eye, there was a faint shimmer of rose-gold on her godfather’s wrist as he ran his fingers through his wife’s long, freshly washed hair.

“Shh,” she hissed, “I’m concentrating.”

Sirius laughed before he moved to put his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed lightly. “Pup, if you don’t send it soon, it won’t be there in time for Yule…Christmas. We also need to leave for the Day First Yule Ritual with the Malfoy’s and Regulus soon, and you still need to change into your Ritual Dress.”

Hera sighed at his unfortunately timed logic before she reluctantly handed the gift to the—suddenly—disgustingly smug bird. She stroked the top of her head for a moment, and received a fond nip. “Take it to Tom.” The owl hooted and nipped her fingers fondly again before she took off through the large, open window. “What if he doesn’t like it?” she whispered through a suddenly very tight throat.

“Pup, if he doesn’t like it, then he’s not the one for you.”

“But—”

“Sweetling, he’ll like it. You spent two days picking it out.”

“But…what if he takes it the wrong way?” She finally voiced her true concern, and instead of it making her feel better, like she had hoped, it just made her feel worse. She really didn’t want to insult him—intentionally or not.

“Then it’s his problem, not yours, my love.”

Hera sighed once more before she left to change into her handspun white cotton dress that was only to be worn for Rituals.

She stood in front of her mirror and ignored its ‘helpful’ comments while she quickly tied her hair back into a neat Dutch-braid—well… _attempted_ for it to be neat would be more accurate. While she worked, her eyes fell onto the once Black, now dull Silver, letters visible just below her left clavicle.

_No, go ahead_.

They were written in a familiar and neat calligraphy—that was slightly tidier than Tom’s current handwriting—and she tried to bite back the tears that threatened to fall.

Only one escaped her iron will.

She didn’t know _what_ she would do if her True Soulmate Rejected her.

* * *

_Page 17 of_ The Intricacies of Soulmates _by Joan Selwyn_

_Commonly known by most, if not all Pureblood witches and wizards, is that Soul Words have different colors, depending on the type of Soulmates._

_Black is for Words that have yet to be spoken._

_Gray is for when your Soulmate has died…_

_Bronze Words are for Platonic Soulmates…_

_Rose-Gold represent Romantic Soulmates…_

_There is one more color, and it is both the rarest, and most sought after. Silver. Silver represent the Bond of True Soulmates. They are the one Soulmate pair that will be both the best of friends, and the closest of lovers. They are the one pair who will_ always _love each other for who they are. Good or evil, happy or sad, until eternity passes away, even if there is a radical change in who they are at their center._

_Unlike other Soul Word colors, Silver Words change color the closer the two Mates get. They start dull, and the shinier they are, the stronger the Bond. They are the only Soulmate pair who do not require any additional Bondings when they marry—as the reason Bondings were created was to replicate a True Soulmate Bond._

_It is very rare for True Soulmates to be of different blood statuses, and even rarer for them to be muggleborn._

_It is often said that True Soulmates are meant to be treasured by each other, for they can never share their soul with another. They will have friends, they will have family, and they will have people who flit in and out of their lives._

_But never will they have someone they can love as their Soulmate._


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 7:30 AM and I only got two hours of sleeps so I can't think of anything relevant to add. :))  
> I REMEMBERED!  
> I had the warning Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, but, I removed it after I thought that I might have misused it. It was for violence, and I wish that I could tell you that you could skip it, but...welll.... is kind of important...  
> Sorry.  
> Lot's of fluff after though

Tom stared at the package at the end of his bed with furrowed brows.

He had no one he’d consider ‘friend’ in his House, and had only…vague acquaintances in the other Houses. He was not close with anyone, and as such, had expected absolutely nothing for Christmas—or Yule, as he had heard some of his Housemates refer to it as.

He carefully climbed out from under his thick covers, and cautiously made his way to the end of his bed as if the nicely wrapped package would jump out and attack him—but, if you considered his roommates, his actions weren’t all that unwarranted. With his wand, he carefully turned the silver tag over and read what was written on it.

_To: Tom M. Riddle_

_From: Hera J. Potter-Black_

His head drew back as he stumbled slightly, completely confused by the shock mixed with possessive pleasure.

Why…?

How…?

_What_?

Why had _Hera_ sent him a gift? Sure, they were Soulmates, but from what Malfoy—her god-brother of some sorts? (he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ their relationship was)—had told him, she wouldn’t… _shouldn’t_ …be giving him a second glance.

Next to the package was a large, white feather, and he frowned slightly as he crouched next to it with his arms wrapped around his shins, and his head on his knees. Either the owl that had been sent to deliver the present had begun to molt early, or quite possibly _late_ , or it was sick, _or_ it had just lost a feather—which was entirely likely (and probably the most likely solution).

He picked up the feather and stroked it before he stood and placed it in his nightstand. He stared at the dark oak wood for a moment before he turned his attention back to the package that still sat at the end of his bed on his trunk.

He carefully lifted it before he perched on the edge of his bed, and slowly opened the dark blue present so he didn’t tear the shiny—and most likely expensive—paper. He was fully prepared to throw it across the room in case it decided to explode.

But…if his Hera was truly the one to have sent it….

The paper was off, and a black box that had what appeared to be an image of a star cluster spelled onto it greeted his eyes. He turned the box, and the image changed to another image of space. He would forever deny the fact that he spent fifteen minutes just spinning the box around to see the different images—he hadn’t seen a repeat (he was unsure if there would _be_ a repeated image).

Inside the nice box—which he would fight tooth and nail to keep—were four thick books and a letter sealed with a blue and bronze wax stamp—it seemed she was very proud of her House (as she should be). Two of the books were the first two volumes from a collection entitled _Wizarding Culture for Dummies_. He decided to assume that it was a take on the muggle books that explained things _for Dummies_.

Another of the four books was _Holidays and Special Ritualistic Days in the Wizarding World_. The last book appeared to be a diary with _Tom. M. Riddle_ inscribed in golden calligraphy that closely matched the neat Silver writing below his navel, in line with the waistline of his pajama bottoms.

He opened the letter with trembling hands as his heart thundered painfully in his chest.

Why was he so nervous?

_Dear Tom,_

_Happy Yule! Or is it happy Christmas? I’m not entirely sure how this holiday works in the muggle world. The only thing that I understand about it is the gift-giving, and that’s because my mom was muggleborn and Severna and she grew up together, and Severna decided to just continue with the gift giving._

_Perhaps you’d be willing to explain Christmas? Why do you give gifts at Christmas time? No one has explained that to me._

_I hope you don’t mind, but, I asked Severna for your full name to be able to inscribe it onto the diary, and then I decided last minute that you’d probably just prefer it to be your middle initial. The reason I asked Severna is because you are surprisingly hard to track down on the best of days._

_I know that Slytherins like to trade information for information, so, in exchange for your name, my full name is Hera James Potter-Black._

_I often see you in the library, but between Quidditch practice and school, I often don’t get to track you down, especially since whenever I do have time to do so, you’re never in the library. Really, I think you should just live there when not attending classes so I can find you._

_(I’m teasing…kind of.)_

_Anyways, enough rambling, about the three books that I got you. I’m not implying anything, i.e. like you’re lesser for being muggle-raised. I actually find it quite fascinating to be quite honest. Recently, Sirius mentioned something about a walking man that sang music through crappy ear muffs. What is that?_

_I’m rambling._

_Again._

_Sorry._

_Back on topic—hopefully—you had mentioned at one point on the train that you wanted to know more about our world, and I asked Sirius—my godfather, if you’re wondering—and he suggested these books because my godmother, and apparently even my mother read them and found them to be quite useful._

_The two Culture books are the first in a collection that is comprised of thirty books, and the holiday book is just something that I found while looking for those two. They—the Culture books—were written for people who were muggle-raised, or raised by someone who doesn’t follow Pureblood Culture, and it explains our customs to them and their importance to keeping Mother Magic alive; you’ll often hear them referred to as the Olde Ways instead of Pureblood Culture._

_The Culture books start off by explaining the most basic parts of our Culture, and how to understand why most Purebloods act the way that they do. It also teaches you how to not make a fool of yourself…now that I think about it…perhaps I should read them too…._

_Anyway, I hope that you like them, and if you want…for your birthday—Severna told me that too, sorry, mine’s July 31—I could get you more of them. If you want again. I’m sorry. I’m nervous._

_I hope you have a wonderful ~~Yule~~. Christmas._

_Yours,_

_Hera_

_PS: Please don’t feel obligated to get me anything._

_PSS: If you want, maybe for Imbolc we could do something? I don’t know. I’m being pushy. Bye._

_(My desk and face have become one)_

He smiled at the rambling letter, and stroked the neat letters, as he smiled at the post scripts written in different colored inks.

“Thank you, my Hera.”

* * *

It was the end of the school year, and their interactions hadn’t grown beyond the occasional rambling letter from Hera, or the soft smiles exchanged in their classes.

They had become permanent Potion’s partners as well as permanent Defense, and Charms partners.

Despite these improvements and the increased interactions, there was still a wall between the two that neither knew how to dismantle or destroy.

* * *

_Second Year_

“Is this seat taken?”

Hera looked up from _Defensive and Offensive Season Magic_ and grinned at him while she shook her head. “No, go ahead.”

He smiled softly before he moved into the cabin with his robes wrapped tightly around him. “I’m sorry, Hera.”

Her head tilted to the side as he settled on the bench next to the window across from her. “Whatever for?”

“For not returning all of your letters. I—I don’t have an owl…the orphanage won’t let me…and, well, your new one doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

She huffed a small laugh even as a burning pain flared in her heart. “I figured that was the case…. I had tried to order Froste to stay, but, he always seemed to be much more indignant and bite-y whenever I did so, and he never really listened anyway. To be honest, I don’t think he likes me all that much either. I would have ordered H-Hedwig to stay with you, but—” she paused as her throat choked up and her eyes burned.

“Is Hedwig alright?” Apparently, he had noticed the exclusive use of Froste halfway through the summer instead of just every couple of letters.

She shook her head. “No, she uh…she died. A few days after my birthday, actually. But…it’s fine. She was old and in pain.” She practically slapped herself when she went to dash away the tears that fell down her face and winced slightly. “I have to think that she’s in a better place, you know?”

Because she stared at her lap, she flinched when arms wrapped around her, but she leaned into his embrace even so. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Hera.”

She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and pressed her face into his neck. “She really liked you, you know.”

“Really?”

She nodded and snuggled closer to him, and slightly tightened her grip before it loosened once more. He ran the tip of his nose over her head and pulled her closer. “Yeah. Whenever we’d send a letter, and it wasn’t addressed to you, she’d visibly deflate, and whenever it _was_ for you, she couldn’t get out of the Owlery fast enough. Also, she’d _always_ wait for you to reply.”

“You never ordered her to stay?”

“No, I was too worried about her to do it. Besides, she’d do it anyway, and I’d rather not waste time telling her to do something that she was already going to do. Once, Sirius needed her to come back as soon as she dropped the letter off, told her and explained it to her for five minutes, and she completely ignored him. He wasn’t very happy, but I found it endlessly amusing that he was forced to use one of the less competent birds in the Black family collection.”

He laughed and nuzzled her head again. “She did always seem reluctant to leave,” he murmured softly as he ran his fingers gently through her wild—yet somehow tamed with an obscene number of spells—hair. She snuggled closer once more, and their thighs touched. She was close to falling asleep as his hands slowly carded through her hair, and his nails gently scraped against her scalp. He shifted closer, and she tucked her head closer into his neck.

Perhaps she did fall asleep, because she jolted awake from a dream whose vestiges faded into the back of her mind and left her unaware of what it had come up with. She looked around to find what had woken her, and saw that the door had slid open, and that the trolley lady stood there with a soft smile on her face. Tom sat up—she hadn’t even noticed that is head had been on top of hers—and rubbed at his eyes.

Perhaps they had both fallen asleep.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

They both bought a sandwich and a glass bottle of pumpkin juice before the woman smiled once more and left the two second years alone.

“I’m sorry,” they both murmured at the same time.

They laughed softly and unwrapped their sandwiches and opened the bottles of pumpkin juice. They continued to sit next to each other, and their arms occasionally brushed together as they ate. While they ate, they unconsciously moved closer until their arms touched once more, and ended up leaning into each other.

Together they ate, read, and chatted about their summers to pass the time. When they were about an hour away from school, she noticed a strange movement in his robes. She stared at it for a moment with furrowed brows before a small snake head poked out.

“You have a snake! Why do you have a snake?” she gasped with wide eyes and excitement. However, if she went by the whitening of his face, and the widening of his eyes, he didn’t realize that was what it was.

Her Soulmate flinched out of his shock when his snake started towards her, and wrestled and whispered softly to the reptile for a moment before it reluctantly shrunk back into his robes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered while he refused to look at her.

Her head tilted to the side. “For what? Snakes are _awesome_! Is it your familiar?”

He gazed at her for a moment with a look that she could only describe as _hungry_ , and she flushed a delicate shade of red. He smirked slightly. “I think so, but, I’m not entirely sure. I’m afraid they won’t allow her at school, so…I was just going to keep her hidden. She refused to ride in my trunk.”

Hera looked into his bottomless blue eyes. “If she’s your familiar, they can’t keep her away from you. It’s illegal, and punishable by Azkaban. Just talk to ma—Severna and she’ll get it sorted out with Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, it might be harder to work out if she’s venomous—”

“She’s not,” he cut in. The snake slowly started to peak her head out from his robes, and he didn’t notice.

“What’s her name?”

“Nagini.”

“Can I see her?” Almost as if she could understand, the snake poked her small head out the rest of the way. “She’s beautiful,” she cooed. She unconsciously reached a hand out and paused before she could touch the reptile that now hovered in front of her face. “Can I pet her?” Nagini, once more behaving as if she could understand, booped her nose, and she laughed before she gently ran her fingers along the dry scales at Tom’s assent. “I won’t tell anyone about her if you don’t want me to.”

He smiled at her with relief clear in his eyes. “Thank you, Hera.”

A faint prickling on her collarbone had her grinning at him. She scooted closer to him and he moved towards her as well. She pet Nagini with one hand while the other absently stroked her tingling Words, and noticed that Tom had placed his hand on his lower abdomen.

“How old is she?”

Her Soulmate leaned into her and ran a finger along his familiar’s—potential familiar—scales next to her own fingers. “Not very old. Only about eight months.”

“Will she get bigger?”

“She’ll get much bigger if she gets a lot of sunlight and food.”

“Is she magical or mundane?”

He looked at her confused for a moment. “Mundane, I guess. She knew about Magic, but, she didn’t know much other than the fact that we exist.”

Hera nodded her head. “Definitely mundane then.”

She cooed at the snake, and Nagini wrapped around her and Tom in such away that the two Soulmates had to cuddle in order to accommodate the small, stubborn snake who _clearly_ wanted to be wrapped around the two, despite the fact that she was too small.

The snake was very proud of herself when she felt her Master’s heartrate increase.

(perhaps it was a good thing that she was so stubborn then)

* * *

Hera ran shaking fingers along the soft breast feathers before she began to mutilate her own, slim fingers. She stared at the small, black owl with bright blue eyes, and not for the first time since Yule break started nearly two weeks prior, she wondered just _what_ she had been thinking at the time.

She had long since come to the conclusion that she had not, in fact, been thinking.

Sirius had a friend at the DMLE who bred magically colored owls, and had taken her to see the newest batch due to the very _mutual_ dislike between her and Frost. Coincidentally—unfortunately—the little demon was bred by the same man.

While there, she had seen the smallest of the bunch, and had immediately bought it and another—one with bright blue feathers, white irises, and pink pupils—before she had truly thought about what exactly she had done.

With the black owl, that is. She bought the blue one for herself.

Hands landed on her shoulders. “Do you think he’ll hate me, papa?”

A kiss was pressed to the top of her head as hands on her shoulders squeezed tightly. “No, pup. I don’t think he will.”

“But—what if he does?”

Panic nearly ate her soul whole.

He turned her around and pulled lightly on her robes until the Silver letters shined dully in the bright light. “These—” he tapped the Words, and she recoiled at the slimy feeling that rushed through her “—these make it so he can’t hate you, my darling girl. You’re over thinking this entire thing—relationship—friendship, whatever you want to call it. Just let it happen naturally pup, alright?”

It was not the first time that her godfather had told her those words, and she doubted that it would be the last.

She bit her cheeks against the acerbic burn at the back of her nose. “Okay,” she spoke. Her voice was thin, and it shook slightly, along with the rest of her body. Sirius readjusted her robes and left her alone when her godmother called for him, but not before he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She turned back to the nameless bird who watched her with its head tilted, and handed it the small package that had an undetectable extension charm, along with several feather-light charms for the young bird. She gave it and her new owl, Iris, the necessary instructions needed and bit her tongue at the panic that coalesced in the back of her throat.

She watched the two owls until they faded into the forest of tall trees behind the mansion and prayed to the Olde gods that she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

A bird.

She got him a _bird_.

An _owl_.

He stared at the creature in bafflement before he turned his attention to the green letter and the silver-wrapped present. He opened the box—which was similar to the last box, only this one had images of forests and waterfalls—and smiled at the contents, and then opened the letter that was written in a sparkly and glowing bronze ink.

_Dear Tom,_

_Happy Yule!_

_Am I being too forward in getting you an owl?_

_And more Culture books?_

_And snake treats for Nagini? (I bought them at Magical Menagerie in Diagon, and the owner said that mundane snakes could eat them just fine)._

_I am so beyond nervous…. I should be checked into St. Mungo’s and placed in the Janus Thickey ward. ~~Papa~~ —Sirius says that I need to stop worrying, but I don’t know how I can’t not worry when it comes to you._

_Anyways, the books are the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth books in the Collection that I told you about last year because I noticed that you have the other three._

_I promise I’m not a stalker._

_Don’t listen to whatever Hermione says._

_Please._

_It’s all lies._

_You can name the owl whatever you want. He’s only six months old, so he should last you a long time. Hedwig lived for 26 years and was my father’s owl before she was given to me upon his death._

_How are you? And Nagini?_

_I miss you._

_Is that strange? We hardly speak to each other, and yet I find myself missing you terribly._

_How’s the potion’s homework coming along for you? I’m more than struggling with it—I’ve had to start it over five times because I keep ripping it to shreds—and because of my pride, I refuse to ask ~~mama~~ —Severna for help._

_Would you perhaps maybe possibly be willing to help me?_

_I hope you have a happy Yule._

_Yours,_

_Hera._

_PS: Please don’t feel obligated to get me anything._

He wasn’t entirely sure why the slightly muddled and rambling letter made his heart warm, his hands tremble, and the Beast purr while he stroked the pitch-black bird.

He liked it.

* * *

She held the green and silver, snake shaped, hair stick in her hands as the small black owl escaped out the open window. She quickly removed the eagle tipped stick out of her hair and quickly secured it back up with the new one.

It went in smoothly and didn’t pull at her hair, despite the fine sticky-outy details on the snake’s body.

“What does the letter say?” Sirius demanded. His dinner was completely forgotten, and he wriggled in his chair like an over-excited school boy.

She opened the green and silver letter and read silently, and had to keep herself from laughing when Severna spelled him to his chair.

_Dear Hera,_

_Happy Yule._

_I hope you had a wonderful day. Thank you for the books, treats (Nagini absolutely adores them and is debating on making you her Master instead), and the owl. I have named him Envy, if you care to know. It’s not too forward, however...I feel as if I owe you._

_I know that the hair ornament isn’t nearly enough of a repayment, but it is all I could do with being stuck in the castle. I transfigured it from an abandoned hairclip that I found and based it off of some of the other ornaments I’ve seen you wear in your hair._

_Does that make me a stalker?_

_And what does Granger say to people about you being a stalker? I find I would quite like to know whatever it is. Perhaps I’ll ask her when school is back in session—_

“NO! No, no, no, no, no! Don’t you _dare_ Tom Riddle,” she hissed before she continued to read.

_—I’m not entirely sure how to do this, as I’ve never had anyone to write letters to before._

_Perhaps you’d teach me?_

_It would be a fair trade as I’ll be helping you with potions._

_Speaking about potions, the assignment was quite easy for me. What part did you struggle with so much that it made you shred the assignment five times? As stated above, I would be more than happy to help you._

_Yours,_

_Tom_

She was not ashamed to admit that she had squealed at the dinner table and ended up making her baby god-sister, Lilian—commonly just called Little Lily—cry.

She also was most definitely _not_ ashamed to admit that she got grounded later for immediately leaving the table without excusing herself to respond to his letter—really, Grandpapa Orion was too strict sometimes.

* * *

It was the day after Hera’s thirteenth birthday, and she stood trembling in the darkened back room where the Black and Potter account manager goblins stood with a wavy, goblin-wrought Ritual Dagger.

“Are you ready, Heiress Potter-Black?”

She stood frozen. Her father put his hand on her shoulder, and she reluctantly nodded her head. “Yes.”

She had never known that she had taken speaking for granted, but after the last week, up until the day prior, she had learned that she had done just that. She had had a sore throat that had made it nearly impossible to breathe, most definitely impossible to talk, and she had just been able to get small amounts of warm broth down at a time before the pain became too much.

The goblin held out the knife, and she faltered. She felt the eyes of Uncle Regulus, Uncle Lucius, Auntie Narcissa, Grandmama Walpurga, Grandpapa Orion, her two siblings, and her mother and father. She took the knife with trembling hands, and tried to ignore the way it glinted menacingly in the dull light.

She took a deep breath—that was more choked sob than anything else—before she cut a long, diagonal line from the proximal digital crease on her pointer finger down to her proximal wrist crease. She then cut vertical lines from the tip of each finger down to the first cut she had made—the one on her pinky ended up being the longest, while the one on her pointer finger was the shortest. She cut a line that went from the tip of her thumb down to her distal wrist crease, and then around her wrist and lower back of her hand like a macabre bracelet.

She took another deep breath—it was too shaky to be fortifying, and only made the anxiety worse. A choked sob left her throat and she shook her head. Sirius’ hand tightened on her shoulder, and she knew that if he were allowed to, he’d have spoken.

He knew exactly what came next, as he had done the exact same Ritual on his thirteenth birthday.

She clumsily adjusted her grip on the knife so that her thumb pressed against the pointed top of the blood-diamond crusted pommel. The cross guard seemed to burn her pinky with how cold it was—perhaps that was just her nerves (she doubted it).

She pressed the tip of the already bloody knife against the center of her palm and had to block out the whimpers of her mother as she moved to cover her sibling’s eyes. Severna had never done the Ritual as she had grown up with a family that didn’t follow the Olde Ways. But, she had been there when her father, Uncle Regulus, and Grandpapa Orion had been there to explain what Hera needed to do for it.

Uncle Regulus placed a hand on her other shoulder, and with the two strong grips grounding her to reality, she nodded and bit her lip.

_Why_ did she have to do this again?

She took another shaky breath as her siblings whimpered, confused about why their mother covered their eyes. She pulled back the dagger, so her hand was by her face, and ignored the way her hand trembled.

She stabbed down as hard as she could.

She cried out as the goblin steel cut through already mutilated flesh, veins, tendons, and shattered fine bones until the cross guard was flush with her bloody, cut-up palm. Due to the pain that pounded in her ears, and the nausea that danced in her throat, she didn’t hear the confused cries of her brother and sister; nor did she hear the heartbroken sobs of her mother.

Fat tears rolled down her face as she neared hyperventilating when she pulled the flame-bladed dagger out of her hand. Another desperate cry—please no more, let it be _done_ —escaped her bleeding lips when she plunged her hand into the smoking potion of the Elixir of Clarity.

Painful fire froze across her skin and ate at her blood before she pulled her hand out once her skin had magically absorbed the entirety of the freezing liquid and pressed it against a magicked piece of parchment with her palm down and fingers splayed wide.

Blood and Elixir bloomed out from her blackened hand, almost as if the parchment was covered in a layer of thin liquid. Once the parchment was a deep, watery red, she pulled her hand away, and a goblin-healer immediately set about healing the wounds that were self-inflicted, and the frostbite that was not _fully_ self-inflicted.

She knew that the Elixir would be cold due to the research in first year, she just didn’t think she would have gotten _frostbite_ cold.

She heard the mutters of her grandparents as they offered to take the children out, and Uncle Lucius joined them, his face paler than usual, and his lips an interesting shade of green as Auntie Narcissa helped him.

The Black account manager—after a brief scuffle with the Potter account manager—took the parchment and started to mumble over it in Gobbledygook.

Her mother knelt down in front of her and wiped at her tears and pressed a kiss to her forehead while Uncle Regulus ruffled her hair. “You did so well, my sweetling,” she murmured as she pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“We have the results, Heiress Potter-Black.” The goblin was clearly shocked, and the Potter account manager was gone from the room. The door in the back swung slightly, as if it had been hastily closed, and the latch hadn’t taken fully.

Hera grabbed the parchment with her good hand because she was the only one who could read it at the moment, and no one else other than the goblins would be able to read it until she handed it off to someone and broke the charm. She looked at the parchment and hissed when the healer did something to her hand that made it burn again.

**_Name_ ** _:_

_Hera James Potter-Black_

**_Blood Status_ ** _:_

_Half-Pureblood_

**_Parents_ ** _:_

_James Fleamont Potter_

_Father—deceased 08/02/1984_

_Lily May Potter nee Evans_

_Mother—deceased 08/02/1984_

_Sirius Orion Black_

_Father—Adopted 07/01/1993_

_Severna Maria Black nee Snape_

_Mother—Adopted 07/01/1993_

_Remus John Lupin_

_Godfather—deceased 08/02/1984_

**_Siblings_ ** _:_

_Liliana Severna Black (sister)_

_James Remus Black (brother)_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy (god-brother)_

_Amaryllis Narcissa Malfoy (god-sister)_

She looked up when the door squeaked, and the Potter account manager walked in with 8 small boxes skillfully stacked on top of each other. She shrugged, more than slightly confused, before she looked back to the parchment.

As she read, her eyes widened.

**_Claims and Titles_ ** _:_

_Magical Heir to the Great and Primordial House of Emrys_

_Heir to the Great and Primordial House of Le Fey_

_Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Gryffindor_

_Heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_

_Heir to the Noble House of Potter_

_Heir Consort to the Great and Primordial House of Peverell_

_Heir Consort to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin_

_Heir Consort to the Ancient House of Gaunt_

**_Magical Abilities_ ** _:_

_Parseltongue (Soulmate)_

_Animagus (father(s))_

Hera blinked multiple times as she handed the parchment to her father and mother.

Uncle Regulus looked over their shoulders. “Holy mother of Merlin,” he muttered as his eyes too widened.

“Regulus,” Severna chided half-heartedly before she, too, muttered a curse under her breath. “Child of a banshee this is _insane_.”

“You need to tell him,” Sirius insisted after a moment, and the shock had worn off. “He lives in a muggle orphanage, right?”

“Yes, but…how do I tell him?”

Uncle Regulus knelt in front of her. “I don’t know, dear. You’ll figure it out though. You always do.”

She hugged her uncle and tried to ignore the blackness of her hand.

* * *

_Third Year_

“Is this seat taken?”

Primal triumph ate at his chest, and he smirked. He looked to the doorway of the cabin and shook his head. “No, go ahead.”

She smiled brightly as usual, and stepped into the cabin and softly shut the door behind him. Instead of sitting on the opposite bench like usual, she sat next to him on her left foot so she could easily face him.

Her left hand was slightly purple from her mid-arm down, as if it were cold. She played with her fingers, and by her posture, he could easily tell she was nervous about something.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t like that someone was nervous in front of him.

“How much do you know about Soulmates?” she demanded softly.

Ah.

He paled as it was the first time that either of them had brought it up. It had been a dance between the two that had become comfortable, and he didn’t know how he felt about it suddenly being disrupted—even though a small part of him was grateful.

“I know enough,” he eventually answered through a tight throat.

She tilted her head to the side as her eyes narrowed slightly. “Colors?” He inclined his head. “Inheritances?”

He blinked as confusion flooded him and his head tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

She straightened slightly, and began to speak; while she spoke, it was obvious that she became more comfortable. “If a Soulmate in a Pairing has a Magical Inheritance, their Mate, on their thirteenth birthday Gain the same Inheritances. All Pureblood children are taken to Gringotts either on their birthday or after their birthday to find out what Inheritances have been Gained to help them find their Mate if they haven’t already found them.”

“I’ve never read about that…” he trailed off as he admired his Soulmate.

“It’s not normally written about because it’s just assumed that everyone knows about it, when in reality it’s only Pureblood families that do because they’re the only ones that have Inheritances, and it’s considered inappropriate to talk about it with anyone other than family or your Soulmate. It’s the same with Soul Word colors too, although those have more books written than Inheritances. I suggest reading _The Intricacies of Soulmates_ by Joan Selwyn when we get to school. I’m pretty sure that Hogwarts has a copy, but if they don’t, let me know and I’ll let you borrow my copy.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” he demanded softly, grateful for the information, but more than confused. He didn’t have any Magical Inheritances. He was a Mudblood.

Wasn’t he?

Nagini awoke from her nap and slithered out of his robes and quickly wrapped herself around Hera as she hissed gleefully, “ **I like this one, Master. She smells like you do, only a little sweeter. She is good**.”

Hera smiled at the snake and flushed as if she could understand what was said. She stroked the reptile’s head softly before she looked at him. “ **Can you understand me, Tom**?” She stared deep into his eyes, and his heart thundered in his chest.

“ **Speaker**!” Nagini hissed excitedly as she wrapped herself tighter around his Mate.

“ **You speak Parseltongue**?”

She nodded and wrestled his familiar away from her neck where she had been scenting his Soulmate. She had done the same thing to him when he found her. “ **Yes. I’m not good at it though, and I struggle to get out of it when I start speaking it. I got it on my thirteenth birthday, and lemme tell you, that was a _painful_ process**.”

Those ancient and primal feelings ate at his most basic…things that made him _him_ , as the sibilant syllables left her full lips. “So…this is just more proof that we’re Soulmates?”

“ **Yes, it is, but it’s also proof of something else, it—dang it! How do I stop**?” She looked at him with adorably frustrated eyes that reminded him of a teddy bear. He pulled her close and began to rub at her throat gently with his thumbs while the Beast purred.

“You have new muscles and tendons in your throat and mouth now. When you start speaking Parseltongue, especially in the beginning, sometimes the muscles and tendons have a hard time relaxing, which makes it difficult to transition back to English.” As he spoke, he continued to massage her neck, and felt the small tendons just below her jaw on either side of her neck start to relax under his ministrations. He moved down to the column of her throat and the muscles there quickly started to relax as well. “The **longer** you **speak** it, the **easier** it is to **switch** **back** and **forth**.”

She laughed and he realized that speaking that way was probably a bad idea as the small muscles beneath his fingers tensed once more. “ **That’s really impressive. My Uncle Regulus bought me a snake when we found out about it, and I was stuck speaking** **Parseltongue for a week before I gave up and hid from the bloody menace for a day. He wasn’t pleased when I emerged, and I was stuck speaking it again. I had to resort to writing to talk to my family**.”

He laughed and continued to rub at the soft skin of her neck, and found himself very interested in meeting the snake. “What’s your snake’s name?”

“ **Posidion. He’s a magical white-lipped python, and is mainly blue. He was bread in Egypt by a breeder who was trying to infuse mundane snakes with magical snake essence. A basilisk was used** on him, but **the only thing that he got from it** was the **lifespan that basilisks have. Would** you like to meet him? Hey! I can speak English again!” She wrapped her arms around him, and he startled for a moment before he wrapped his own around her and pulled her even closer to him.

“Is he here?” Nagini would have had a fit if there was another snake though…. Perhaps he was in a trunk?

She shook her head and his internal questions were answered. “No, mama took him. He absolutely _refused_ to get on the train. He even tried to bite me.”

Concern flooded him in a breathtaking rush—how…strange. He wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling. “Are you okay?”

If she wasn’t, he was going to kill the snake with his teeth.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She pulled away and stroked his cheek. His heart hurt at the warmth in her eyes as he stared at him. He reached up and held her hand to his face as he leaned into her touch. Nagini cooed from the other bench, and caused the two of them to blush deeply.

The cabin door opened, and they pulled away and stared at the shamelessly grinning trolley lady. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

They both bought lunch and some snacks for later on, and while they ate, he asked her a question that he felt would be something needed to be asked.

“Will I be Gaining any Inheritances from you?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure if it’s a Magical Inheritance, but I have the ability to become an Animagus. I get it from both of my fathers. I might not have any because of my blood status.”

If _he_ —a _mudblood_ —had an Inheritance, surely _she_ would have one.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you a Pureblood?”

“Technically yes, technically no. You see, in order to be classified as a Pureblood, you need to have four magical grandparents. I was born a half-blood, and when Sirius did the Godfather Ritual when I was born, he technically became a third blood parent. Because he’s a Pureblood, and my father was a Pureblood, I became something call a Half-Pureblood.”

“Why?”

“You see, while I now had four magical grandparents, I still had two muggle grandparents. So while in Society I am accepted as a Pureblood, Magically speaking I’m a Half-Pureblood. So, not a Half-Blood _or_ a Pureblood. I don’t know if that would have messed with any Inheritances I could have given you.”

He shook his head as he blinked rapidly. “That both makes sense, and no sense.”

She laughed and nodded her head. “I agree completely.” She paused. “I read once that Demon Magic is a Le Fey Inheritance, but, it wasn’t listed on the test, so, I’m sorry to say that we can’t summon demons.”

He laughed incredulously. “I don’t think I’m too put out by that fact.”

After that, they ate in a comfortable silence, and after they had finished eating, she spoke to him again with a strange look on her face. “How…how much do you know about your…parents?” she asked, clearly uncomfortable.

He looked down when Nagini moved into his lap. “Not much,” he replied as he stroked her scales. “I know that I was named after my father, and my grandfather, and that my mother lived long enough to name me, but that’s it. I don’t know if I’m a mud—” he paled at the look she sent him “—muggleborn or half-blood or pureblood. I keep looking, but—” She put her hand over his mouth and stopped his rambling.

“When we get to school, look up the Gaunt family tree.”

“Why?”

She stroked his cheek again before she stroked Nagini’s scales. He never thought he would have _ever_ been jealous of a snake before. “Salazar Slytherin—” His breath caught in his throat “—was able to speak Parseltongue, that’s why Slytherin’s Crest is a snake. Descendants of the Ancient Line of Slytherin and their Soulmates are the only known speakers to live in Great Britain since it’s a Magical Inheritance, and no one who can speak it has moved here. The Gaunt’s were the last direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin.”

He stared at her in shock, and before he could respond, or even _attempt_ to get his grateful thoughts out into the world, the cabin door slammed open.

“Hera! There you are! Did you forget about the meeting?”

His Soulmate flushed and slumped. “Yes, sorry.”

“Hurry _up_! We’re going to be late if we don’t go now.”

She nodded, and he _ached_. “You two go on ahead, I’ll be there soon.” The two soon-to-be-dead males left, and she turned back to him. The raging jealousy that ran thick with the urge to murder and burned brightly in his veins faded slightly. In its place, the primal urge to keep her and hide her away rose up in him again.

She smiled at him before she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Instead of moving away, she brought her hand up to his other cheek and stroked it softly while she whispered in his ear.

His heart was sent on course to rush to the moon and back in a quest to win her love until the end of time.

That night in his bed, her words echoed over the sleeping sounds of his roommates, and the words rang like a clanging bell that promised redemption.

_You are_ not _mud, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and I will end_ anyone _who dares to call you anything but what you are. You are perfect, and you are_ mine _._

* * *

Hera was pulled out of her studying when the chair next to her scraped and long, thin arms wrapped tightly around her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you_ , **thank you** ,” Tom chanted in her ear as he practically pulled her into his lap. Really, if he kept pulling on her, her chair would tip over and she _would_ be in his lap.

Was it wrong that she wanted it to happen?

“ **For what**?” she asked softly. She quickly decided that she was only mildly frustrated that she didn’t have control over her Gained Inheritance. His hands immediately climbed up her back before they wrapped softly around her neck, and started to gently massage the muscles there—hence the reason that the frustration was only mild (this time).

“I apologize,” he said. The slight smirk on his face, however, told her a _completely_ different story: he was quite pleased with himself, and wasn’t sorry at all.

“ **Tom, what did I do**?” she whined softly. At hearing the language that left her lips, the frustrations grew. “ **I blame you. And Posidion. That bloody menace has made it his life goal to make it so I can’t talk to others. It’s like he wants me to have only him as a friend**.”

She would be forever grateful that Hermione understood as she had her own Gained Inheritance that she still had difficulties controlling—and she had had it for over a year (but in Hera’s humble opinion, Elemental Magic was _far_ different from a language—but she was still grateful for her best friend (especially since hers was much more dangerous)).

Tom laughed and leaned forward and kissed the skin just below her ear, and she felt the foreign tendons in her mouth and throat relax near instantly. “Because of you, I now know who my mother is.”

Hera grinned and kissed his cheek as she wrapped her arms round his neck. “What’s her name? Did you find a picture?”

“I didn’t find a picture, sadly. Her name is Merope Gaunt, and as far as I can tell, she didn’t attend Hogwarts. My grandfather is Marvolo Gaunt, and I have an uncle named Morfin. In the book I found them in, it had their dates of birth…and their death dates.” He looked down and held her hands. “I’m the last living member of the Gaunt line. My mother was the last to die.”

She kissed his cheek again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He let go of one of her hands and stroked her cheek with it. “Don’t be. I never knew them. Sure, I’m a little disappointed that I can’t get away from the orphanage, and that I don’t have any living relatives, but, it’s hard to miss someone that I never knew, you know?”

When Tom had been born in the orphanage, the employees had tried to track down his father, and the inspector they had hired finally found him when Tom was two. He was in a graveyard, and had died a few months prior to liver cancer—he had drunk himself to death.

The muggle-healers didn’t know how, because Tom Riddle Sr. was young, but _somehow_ his liver had gotten extremely damaged, and then he spent every day, all day, for two years drinking until his damaged liver couldn’t handle the poisons anymore and just gave up.

She nodded her head and looked down. “I know…I mean, you can’t tell _anyone_ what I’m about to tell you…” She looked down, and he lifted her face up, and she rested her forehead against his.

“I Promise not to tell anyone,” he whispered, and Magic tightened in the air around them, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Their chairs were so close together that they practically sat in each other’s laps.

“Thank you,” she took a deep breath before she spoke, “some days…I don’t remember my birth parents. I was so young when they died, that it honestly feels like a dream. I hear stories about them, and I feel connected to them, in some obscure sense, and I love them…but, if I were to lose Sirius or Severna…mama or papa…I think it would hurt much more to lose them than it did to lose my parents. I mean, I have all of these wonderful, and not so wonderful memories with them, and when you compare it to the faint recollections that I have of my birth parents…I feel like they’re more my mom and dad than my actual mom and dad ever were.”

Tom pulled her closer and rubbed the back of her neck. “If anyone understands, it’s me,” he soothed as he brushed the tears that had fallen away. He pressed his forehead firmer against hers and she closed her eyes as a weight that had been crushing her chest for _years_ had finally lifted.

Maybe it would be okay to finally tell Mama and Papa.

“Hera!”

She groaned and pulled away from her Soulmate. She turned to see Juniper Jones with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl that promised pain on her face.

It was no secret that she had a _major_ crush on Tom, despite him being three-ish years younger than her, and barely interacted with her. Rumor had it that he had said her Words, but it was obvious that if that _was_ the case, no one mentioned to her that Words changed color when they’ve been spoken.

“What?” Tom laughed softly next to her and her lips twitched.

“We have practice, come on.”

Her head tilted to the side as she checked her watch. “Practice isn’t until three.”

The scowl on the older girl’s face deepened and her heart stuttered in her chest. “I want to run through some new maneuvers with you before it starts.”

Hera’s eyes narrowed and her magic snapped around her. She had been on the team for two years and this was the first time that Juniper had paid any attention to her other than congratulating her on catching the snitch and winning the game—and even then, that was only when the planets aligned and the stars shined brightly upon her.

She opened her mouth to refuse—she wanted to spend time with Tom—but stopped when she felt his hand on her bare knee. Her magic calmed immediately as she turned to him. “Go on, we can talk later.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek—dangerously close to her mouth—before he stood and walked away. He looked behind him once, smiled, winked at her, and then he was gone.

“Come on, Potter-Black.”

Hera sighed, packed up her things, and made her way to the Quidditch pitch behind Juniper. As they walked, she couldn’t help but wonder what Hell awaited her.

* * *

It was the last Hogsmeade weekend before Yule break, and Hera was more than slightly lonely. It didn’t matter that she was surrounded by her ‘friends’ and teammates.

She had been lonely for far longer than that day.

It seemed as if everyone in Ravenclaw, even those that she might have eventually considered a friend, were on a mission to keep her away from Tom—everyone except for Hermione, that is. She was also more than half convinced that Slytherin was of the same mind set, only it was to keep Tom away from Hera.

His blood status had been announced to the school—neither knew how—and he had gone from the bottom of the food chain in Slytherin to the main predator of the entire school overnight, despite him being a third year.

She stepped away from her companions with a weak excuse, and quickly hid in Tomes and Scrolls before they realized what she had said and done. She stamped off her feet, smiled at the owner behind the counter, and made her way to the section of culture books, and to the collection that she had been buying for Tom as birthday and Yule presents.

She was pleasantly surprised when she saw him already there. He sat on the ground in front of the dusty shelves and had a large tome in his lap. “Is this seat taken?” she asked softly.

He looked up at her, smiled, and shook his head. “No, go ahead.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him so their sides touched. “How are you?” he asked softly.

She leaned into him as she sighed. She shrugged her opposite shoulder as she spoke. “I’m okay, I guess.”

He pulled away slightly, which prompted her to look up at him, and his eyes traced her face with an unreadable expression in them. “ **Liar**.”

She narrowed her eyes and thumped him on the shoulder when her throat and tongue tensed in a familiar fashion. “ **I hate you** ,” she muttered playfully. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he laughed softly and leaned into her.

“ **What’s wrong**?”

“ **I’m lonely, I guess**.”

He frowned slightly. “ **I saw you with your friends earlier. Did something happen**?” he questioned as he moved his right arm to wrap it around her shoulders and pull her closer.

She scoffed and nuzzled the worn fabric of his winter robes. “ **What friends? The only friend I have is Hermione, and she’s with her Soulmate today. The rest of them—the ones I _was_ with—are either just roommates or teammates. Nothing more, nothing less**.”

“ **Am I not your friend**?” he teased softly…yet underneath the playful hiss, she heard a genuine question, along with genuine worry.

She snuggled closer to him and slung an arm around his stomach, and the arm around her shoulders tightened as his left pinned her right arm to him. She snaked her left arm around his back and nuzzled his shoulder with her nose. “ **I’d like to be your friend. I _want_ to be your friend. I feel like everyone is trying to keep me away from you, though**.”

He leaned his head against hers and breathed deeply, and his grip tightened. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as well, and was pleased with the slightly smoky-mint smell that filled her nostrils. “ **I feel the same way as well. I asked Draco why, and he says that even though he loves you, you’re not good enough for me**.” She tried to pull away, but he pulled her closer. “ **It’s strange, really…in first year, he told me that I wasn’t good enough for you, his precious god-sister, and now he’s telling me the exact opposite**.”

She snorted. That definitely sounded like her god-brother.

“ **Is that why you pulled away from me so suddenly back then**?” she asked, unable to mask the hurt clear in her voice.

“ **Yes…I believed him. Somedays I still believe him**.”

“ **Why**?”

“ **I was new to this amazing world, with all of these rules that I didn’t know about. He made it seem like you would rather die than ever willingly be with me**.”

She sat up and untangled herself from him, and moved so she knelt next to him as she held his face in her hands. She ignored the pounding in her heart as she stared intently into his eyes, and willed him to feel everything she wanted him to feel. His hands curled around her hips and held her close as his eyes scanned hers. He lifted her and moved her so she sat on his right thigh, and she blushed a brilliant red at the action.

“ **Don’t listen to them, Tom. You’re good enough for me**.” She pulled away slightly and looked around, and once she was content that they were alone, pulled at the neckline of her robes. The Silver Words caught on the light and glimmered softly. “ **This says we’re meant to be. That we’re equals, and that no one else will _ever_ be as perfect for us other than you or me. You’re it, Tom. You always have been, and you always will be**.”

His hands let go of her, and one moved to rest low on his abdomen and the other stroked the Words written in his neat calligraphy-like writing, just next to the silver chain that held six of her eight Heir Rings. Shivers shook her body at his gentle touch, and she would do just about anything to have him touch them for the rest of eternity.

“ **I’ve marked you, haven’t I**?” he murmured softly. The bell over the door jingled, and he carefully moved her clothes to cover the Words back up before he helped her move to sitting next to him again while he wrapped her back in his arms.

“ **Wholly and completely I am yours**.”

Her heart thundered as he started at her with such a hungry warmth in his eyes that the sun on a hot summer day paled in comparison with how it warmed her skin.

“Tom! Come on, I wanna show you something!” Before either of them could protest, he had been drug away by a fourth year Slytherin.

She brought a calloused hand up to her neck and massaged it as she grabbed the book he had been reading— _Ancient Magick’s of the Soul_ —and the rest of the Customs collection as he was on the 23rd book.

“I’d like to buy these please,” she asked an hour later when she put 52 books on the counter.

“Of course, Heiress Potter-Black, is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked as he placed the books into a bag with an undetectable expansion charm on it along with feather-light charms.

She sadly shook her head and handed over the money required. “No, thank you.”

He couldn’t do anything even if he truly wanted to.

* * *

He stood in the doorway of the hospital wing and ignored his aching fists.

He knew he risked detention, but…he needed to see her. He forced his fists open, and they—against his iron clad will (that had apparently rusted some)—grabbed onto his robes. He internally forgave himself while externally, he berated himself with a sigh. He moved to his Soulmate’s bedside and stared at her back while she read a book.

“Is this seat taken?”

She flinched slightly before she looked at him over her shoulder and grinned. She rolled over to face him with extreme difficulty, and only succeeded once he helped her. “Yes,” she answered once she faced him. His eyes widened, his heart throbbed, and primal urges rose up in him at the abnormal answer.

His heart hurt and his mind roared until she reached out a shaky hand. He took the cold appendage into his own and she pulled him close. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles and the Ancient Beast calmed. “I’m cold, so you have to snuggle.”

He huffed a soft laugh before he carefully climbed into the bed next to her. He slid his left arm carefully underneath her head, and draped his right arm over her waist and slid closer to her until their chests touched. “How are you?” he asked after a moment. He flicked his fingers and the covers moved so they wrapped around the two of them comfortably.

“I’m okay. I’ll be allowed out in four days.”

“What’s wrong?” Normally she was out within a day or two.

“Both of my legs were kind of shattered when the bludger hit me. They’re being regrown, and because it’s both legs, and the _entirety_ of both need to be regrown, despite it just being my thighs that were shattered, it’s going to take a couple of days to heal, not to mention the actual putting them back _in_ and having that settle down is going to take another couple days.”

Regret ate at his heart as he pressed his face closer to her. “Does it hurt?”

She bumped her nose against his. “Only a little. The pain-potions help, but, they make me kind of nauseous.”

He rubbed his nose against hers and stroked her cheek softly and stared into her bright green eyes that stared at him with warmth. “When you got hit—” he silently cured the way his voice cracked “—I thought my heart had been broken.”

“You were there?”

He didn’t know if he was insulted or not, and, if he _was_ insulted…did he have a _right_ to be insulted?”

“Of course, I was. You’re my Soulmate. I may not be fond of Quidditch or flying on a broomstick, but, I want to support you, no matter how much it terrifies me to see you on one of those death sticks.” He was silent as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Is it wrong of me that I want to demand that you quit?” he asked in the silent void that was the hospital wing.

“No.” Both teens flinched at the sound of her father’s voice, and she cried out as she tweaked something. Tom started to pull away, but stopped at the icy glare sent his way. “You continue to move away from my daughter, and I will not hesitate to spell you back to the bed after I hex the shi—snot out of you. Go back to snuggling. Now.”

He flushed a deep red before he did as demanded as he came to the definitive conclusion that no one was as terrifying as Sirius Black With A Snake wrapped around his body. “Good. Very good.” The man smiled in a way that made him fear for his life. His Soulmate groaned and hid her face in his neck, and those ancient instincts rose in him and forced him to wrap his arms around her once more. “Now, while it isn’t wrong to want my daughter to quit Quidditch, because after that game today I definitely want the same thing, it _is_ wrong if you force her to quit against her will.”

He decided that he would give his Hera the entire world should she ask it of him when she came to his rescue. “What are you doing here, papa?”

“I brought your demon. He found out you were injured and wrapped around my neck and squeezed until I finally gave in a brought him. I don’t know why your mother couldn’t do it, but I was sent instead,” he said flippantly

“She’s six months pregnant, papa,” she admonished softly as the large, blue snake around her father slid off of him and curled up on Hera, somehow completely missing him entirely.

“ **Hatchling! Are you okay? I will bite whoever dare to hurt you. I will make them pay. Where are they? I demand their blood**!”

His Soulmate groaned softly and snuggled closer to him. He glanced at her father out of the corner of his eyes, and would have shouted if the snake wasn’t so bloodthirsty at the moment. He had a camera. And he was taking many, _many_ pictures.

“ **Posidion, I’m fine** —” Ah. _This_ was the ‘bloody menace’ he had heard so much about “— **no human hurt me. I was playing Quidditch and had an accident**.”

The snake’s head tilted to the side. “ **Is that the pastime with the hard eggs**?”

Tom snorted at the description and thought of ways to destroy the camera without being murdered by Sirius Black Without A Snake. Because even without one, that gleam in his eyes was enough to make even the most evil of wizards hesitate for a moment.

“ **Yes, it is**.”

“ **Take me to them. Now. I will bite them all**.” The snake looked at him, seemed to somehow narrow lidless eyes, before it looked back to his Soulmate. “ **Your companion will take me and together we will destroy the eggs that dare to touch you**.”

Tom chuckled, more than happy with that plan. Could the snake be tricked into thinking that that damned camera was one of the ‘hard eggs’ that hurt his Hera? He wondered…. “ **I like you** ,” he eventually hissed to the snake face that now hovered in front of his own.

The mouth opened as he wordlessly hissed and long fangs that dripped with some type of venom—he must have adapted more than just the basilisk lifespan. “ **You are the Silver Mate**!” Tom couldn’t tell if Posidion was excited or murderous at that discovery.

He looked to his Mate and she explained…although, it wasn’t _exactly_ what he wanted her to explain. “ **It’s what he calls True Soulmates. Apparently that’s what they call them in Egypt**.”

He turned back to the snake and smiled softly and hoped that the snake wasn’t plotting how to hurt him. “ **Yes. I am Hera’s…Silver…Mate**.”

Posidion moved so he was draped over the two of them—it was obvious that he was very well fed and got a lot of sun, just like his Nagini. “ **Both of you sleep. I will protect you, and tomorrow, the Silver Mate and I shall kill the hard eggs**.”

That stupid camera was _still_ going off. “ **Best do as he says. Once he’s made up his mind, he won’t change it** ,” she explained before she yawned.

He massaged her neck. “I need to go back to my common room.”

Black’s indignant squawk was covered up by her snake’s hissing, “ **No. You stay, Silver Mate**.”

Great. The creature could understand English—what _else_ did they mix him with?

“You have a pushy snake,” he muttered mutinously as it tightened around the two.

“Tell me about it,” Lord Black scoffed. The camera was _finally_ put away. “I’ll let Sev know where you are, and that Posidion has made it known in no uncertain terms that you are to stay the night.”

Before he could respond, the man and his bloody camera were gone. “ **Sleep, my Mate** ,” Hera muttered softly before she fell asleep with her head resting against his rapidly beating heart.

It was perhaps the quickest he had ever gone to sleep before.

Wait, no….

That time in second year on the train was the quickest.

(but both were still with his Hera)

* * *

She stood outside the Slytherin common room underneath the Invisibility Cloak that had once belonged to her father, and his father, and his father and so on. She was next to Hermione and shivered slightly under the thin fabric, as she didn’t wear her robes or any of her sweaters.

Why she thought that was a good idea, she didn’t know.

It was Valentine’s Day and her pseudo-sister had insisted that she and Tom meet today. Not only that, she had also insisted that Hera wore one of her flowy dressed that ended up showing her Soul Words, and when she had tried to put a concealment charm on them, removed it.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t just grabbed a sweater—probably the fear of the knowledge that had she done so, her best friend would have Banished it to some volcano on Mars.

Really, she often wondered why she was friends with the girl—and even then, it was never for long. The wall melted away in front of them, and like usual, she was brought out of her ire and reminded just _why_ the two had become fast friends in their first year after that first potions class.

Tom stood next to Hermione’s Soulmate, and the four of them walked to an abandoned classroom deep into the dungeon’s with Hermione and Tom rapidly debating the differences, pros, and cons between Ancient Battle Magic, and Modern Battle Magic—the latter more commonly referred to as just Battle Magic.

“Well, we’ll leave you here, mate.” Before Tom could protest, Hermione shoved Hera into the room, while her Soulmate shoved Tom into the room and left, leaving the two Silver Mates alone.

After the shock wore off, she poked her head out of the Cloak and smiled at Tom who flinched violently at her sudden appearance and stumbled back a few steps. “Hera?” he demanded. He stepped towards her and she dropped the Cloak completely before she wrapped her arms tightly around her Mate.

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?” he asked after a moment of basking in each other’s presence.

She nodded against his neck and tightened her hold on him slightly. “Yeah, it’s a family heirloom. How are you? I miss you.” She pulled away slightly and stared at him, not really believing he was finally there with her after nearly a month of separation.

“I’m doing well—your Words,” his voice cracked as they fell on the faintly glimmering letters and she flushed and pulled away. Shame filled her and she crouched to grab her Cloak, and was quickly stopped when he pulled her back with a low growl.

He wrapped an arm around her waist before he dipped his head and pressed a kiss against the letters, and her legs collapsed at the feeling that brought fire to her soul. Together, they fell to the floor and held tightly to one another as his lips stayed pressed against the Words.

Her eyes were closed, and she nuzzled his neck and the fuzzy feelings in her head faded when he removed his lips from her Words and nuzzled her back. Eventually he pulled away and started to undo the buttons of his shirt after he untucked it from his school slacks.

“Tom?” Her head tilted to the side as her cheeks heated.

“I’ve seen your Words, twice now, it’s only fair that you see mine.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and her collarbone tingled before her Words shone just a titch brighter. He rose to his knees once the garment was completely unbuttoned, and undid the buckle of his belt, and she adverted her eyes as she heard the faint rustling of fabric. She startled when his hands brushed against her face, and his lips against her cheek.

She turned and her eyes caught the sight of his shirt discarded to the side before they were drawn to the glimmering letters three inches below his navel. _Is this seat taken?_. His slacks had been lowered about an inch, and she felt as if her face were melting at the amount of skin she saw.

She looked up to his eyes, and smiled at the burning warmth within them. He reached out a hand, and brushed his fingers gently across her own Words, and she hesitantly held out a shaking hand before she brushed her own fingers haltingly across his Words.

His eyes slid closed and he groaned softly before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “Is that how it always feels?” he asked after a moment, slightly breathless.

“I think so…I’m not entirely sure. It felt different— _better_ —this time when you touched mine than it did the first time.”

She felt his lips spread into a smirk against the skin of her shoulder. “And when I kissed them?”

She groaned as she swore her face melted and gently thumped his shoulder. “You know it felt really good,” she mumbled petulantly as he huffed in laughter.

He ran his nose across her shoulder and to her neck and he smirked again, and she swore her neck vibrated at the sensations that brought. “You know, love, I actually _don’t_ know how it felt.” He pressed his lips to the Words again, and she turned to putty once more. He chuckled softly—and the usually angelic sound sounded pure evil in that moment. “Perhaps you should show me.”

Yep. Her Soulmate was _evil_.

“But—”

He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. “It’s just my stomach, my Hera. I’ll lay down, and you’ll just kiss them. It’s not inappropriate,” he explained with understanding in his eyes. While she had seen him reading the books she had gotten him… _that_ was the proof she needed that he _understood_ her upbringing.

She nodded at the assurance in his eyes and smiled hesitantly. “Okay.”

He laid back on the discarded shirt and Cloak and she knelt next to him. She bit her lips before she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the shimmering letters. Her Mate groaned softly, and she stayed for a few moments longer before she pulled away. He sat up and pulled her back into his arms and nuzzled her neck once more.

“I think I would set the world on fire in order to have you do that every day for the rest of our lives,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She laughed and snuggled closer, and pressed cold fingertips to his Words. “As would I.”

* * *

The rest of their third year passed with the Slytherin’s and Ravenclaw’s obsessively keeping the two True Mates away from each other. It often happened that if the two of them were even seen in the same hallway, their Housemates would drag them away—quite harshly, in Hera’s case.

The Gryffindor’s and Hufflepuff’s were left in the dark between the two other Houses, and due to that fact, didn’t interfere with the Eagles and the Snakes, despite thinking that their behaviors were odd.

Hermione and her Soulmate, Blaise Zabini, often tried to get the two True Mates away from their Housemates and together a few times. Despite _multiple_ attempts, they only succeeded once before a second year Slytherin saw the two together and drug Tom away after they had been together for only minutes.

The two were quickly left with only being able to communicate by letters and in Potion’s class, the one class that the two were still partners. Somehow, their Housemates were able to separate them in the rest of their classes, and because the teachers were ignorant of the mechanisms of the two Houses allowed it to happen—how they adored her mother and the fearful image she gave out while teaching.

It was lonely, for the two True Mates.

Lonelier than they ever thought humanly possible.

* * *

“Is this seat taken?”

It was halfway through the train ride home, and he read one of the culture books she had gotten him. He looked up from the text and smiled softly at her, and her heart thundered violently in her chest.

“No, go ahead.”

She stepped into the cabin, and he reached out his hand and pulled her down next to him as Hermione trailed in after her and cast some spells on the door before she sat next to Blaise. Hera immediately forgot about her two best friends in favor for her Soulmate as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his neck.

She faintly registered the soft sound of a book closing before his arms wrapped around her and practically pulled her into his lap. “ **I missed you** ,” he murmured into her braided hair.

“ **I missed you, too** ,” she sniffed. “ **I missed you _so_ much, my Tom**.”

The two continued to talk quietly and ignored the two Mates who sat on the bench across from them as they watched their closest friends’ interactions.

| ~~}(BZ){~~ |

Blaise hadn’t originally been close to Tom.

He had followed the rest of his Housemates and outwardly shunned the supposed mudblood. But…in private, in the latter semester of their first year, and especially in their second year—after he found his Hermione—he had started to help the boy.

He had noticed the _Pureblood Culture for Dummies_ books he had, and had gotten him the next couple in the collection. He helped the unrealized Heir know the things that hadn’t been written down, and that seemed to be innately known by those of his— _their_ —social class.

When the Slytherin’s had started to keep Tom away from Potter-Black—now known as Hera upon threat of death—in October of their third year, after his lineage had been released by a still unknown source, he had cornered the Heir of Slytherin and had eventually forced the boy to admit that the two were Soulmates.

He quickly figured out the reason that the two Mates were being kept apart was because their House believed that the Half-Pureblood—accepted as a Pureblood most, if not all, of the time (except now that she had the attention of the Heir of Slytherin)—wasn’t worthy of him, and thus, the two needed to be kept away from each other.

It was a shame that it was not a known fact that the two were Soulmates.

Other girls of their House, who were believed to be acceptable to the Heir, were flaunted in front of him, yet, he never looked at them longer than to tell them to leave him alone and have a nice day. He kept his mind on his Mate, and he—Blaise—admired that.

He spoke to Hermione after it got to the point of ridiculousness, and the two had worked desperately to be able to get the two of them together, yet they always seemed to be caught before their plans came to fruition—be it in the planning, or the execution of them.

Yet, despite all of their many failures, it was always worth the pain when the two Soulmates happened to meet—whether it was planned or not—and he was blessed with the sight of seeing the two most guarded people he knew let themselves open up completely around him and his own Mate. He always chose to conveniently ignore the fact that it was because the two forgot that they weren’t _actually_ alone.

It was almost a crime to keep Soulmates apart from each other, and he would _die_ a _painful_ death before he did something as heinous as that—willing _or_ unwilling.

Although…as he watched his friends…he thought of the faint glimmers of Silver he had seen, he dearly hoped that the government _never_ found out about what their Housemates had classmates were doing.

* * *

_Page 184 of_ The Intricacies of Soulmates _by Joan Selwyn_

_True Soulmates, as mentioned earlier, have a different Bond than other Mates._

_Their Bond is beyond comprehension to those who are not True Mates. It can be studied, but it cannot be understood. Their Bond is more in every way, in strength, intimacy, friendship, and in love._

_One spot of their Bond that_ is _of the most basic comprehension, however, is that True Mates absolutely_ cannot _be kept from one another. This action not only puts unneeded stress upon such an already intense Bond, it will eventually drive them to insanity, and if left unchecked, death._

_The Bond of True Soulmates is so wholly intertwined with their magical Cores, that they require their Mate, once found, in order to survive the Core Expansions that all witches and wizards go through. If a Pair meets in adolescence, especially before schooling starts, the Bond is not only stronger, but is more fatal if not treated properly._

_Due to this understanding of the True Mate Bond, it is illegal to keep True Soulmates from each other, as such actions can—and eventually_ will _—kill them. Those caught in keeping True Mates from each other are punished severely, even more so if the Pair die._

_Because, unlike other Mate Pairs, a True Mate cannot live without their Mate once the Bond has been formed, that is, once the Words have begun to glitter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My current plan is to post a chapter a day until the second, but, depending on how today goes, I might post the third part tonight and the last part tomorrow. We'll see. Hope you enjoyed it.


	3. Part Three

They had tried to meet once over the summer, but the director of the orphanage he lived in was a cruel dictator who greatly enjoyed seeing others in pain. She refused to allow him to leave, or to allow her to visit.

Posidion and Nagini both vowed to bite her one day.

* * *

_Fourth Year_

“Is this seat tak—” He didn’t get to finish speaking, as suddenly, his arms were full of his lovely Soulmate.

She pulled him into the cabin and he willingly followed before the door shut behind them and words were murmured, and Magic flared briefly. He didn’t pay much mind to anything beyond his Soulmate as he sat down and pulled her into his lap. “ **I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you** —”

He cut her frantic words off with a kiss to her forehead. He then proceeded to pepper kisses around her face, all the while avoiding her lips.

He wanted their first kiss to not only be private, but also special.

“ **I missed you, too** ,” he whispered.

It hadn’t mattered that they had exchanged letters almost twice a day during the summer. Both wore their owls out terribly, and had to resort to using other owls in her family’s home—he even used the owl that had brought his school list to send his Mate a letter when Envy was too tired. It hadn’t mattered that the letters had eventually become imbued with their Core Magick’s.

It wasn’t _enough_.

As he held her in his arms, in his lap, with the Primal Beast inside of him wrapped tightly around her, he felt the fatigue that had plagued him all summer—especially the last few weeks—start to fade, along with a faint pain in his stomach that he hadn’t even noticed was there. What he did begin to notice, though, was the pain was _right_ where his Words—her Words?—marked him.

His love relaxed in his arms, and nuzzled his neck before she pressed a soft kiss there, and nuzzled him again. He felt something cold and hard against his collarbone, and pulled away slightly.

She lifted her head at his motion and pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin, and he saw what had scraped at him. “Hera…why are you only wearing three earrings?” The last time he had seen her, she had two piercings in each ear.

She now had three piercings on each side, and currently, only her right ear held earrings. She had three small diamond studs in, and each were a different size, the largest in the first piercing, and the smallest in the last.

She laughed softly. “Papa hid half of my earrings, leaving me with hundreds of mate-less pairs. He got a single piercing in his right ear and fell in love with it. When I refused to do it with him for a ‘couple of days’, he retaliated by hiding them all. I humor him, because it’s either wear three that kind of match, instead of six that don’t match at all, and have him hide the three in my left ear.”

“Why don’t you just not wear any earrings or just buy new ones?”

Blaise snorted from where he and Hermione were curled up on the other bench. “You don’t think she tried? Every time she bought new earrings, her father would raid her room and steal all of the left earrings. I bought her some, Hermes bought her some, but he always stole the left earring.”

Ah. The Earring Thief stories made so much more sense now.

“I would try to not wear them, but…my mom…my _birth_ mom…it’s one of the few things that I remember about her.” He and their companion’s tensed.

His Mate didn’t like to talk about her birth parents— _ever_. They had been killed by a dark wizard when she was four, along with another one of her pseudo-godparent’s—a Remus Lupin, if he remembered correctly—when they had gone out on a mission as Auror’s.

“She would _always_ wear earrings. I got my ears pierced because I would always try and put her earrings on, and one day, I remember that I accidently partially pierced my left ear and made myself bleed. Later that day they had been professionally pierced. I wear earrings all of the time to try and keep close to her.”

He recalled what she had told him nearly a year prior, and knew that it was a last-ditch attempt to remember those who sired her. He nuzzled her neck and held her just a bit closer. “Do you remember anything about your father?” he asked hesitantly.

He dutifully ignored the furious glares sent to him by their friends.

She smiled and bit her lips for a moment. “Yeah. Dad, he was an animagus, and he could turn into a giant stag. He’d set me on his back, and then we’d go for a ride in the woods behind our house. Mom hated it—I think…. I also remember that we’d go flying together. He’d set me on his broom in front of him and he’d take me flying. Once he gave me control and we ended up doing a Wronski Feint. The only reason that we hadn’t crashed into the trees was because he was able to pull us out of it at the last second. It was really fun.”

He groaned and held her tighter as the primitive instincts to hide her away rose once more. “I hate whenever you do those.”

“But they’re so much fun!”

He shook his head fondly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

* * *

Their fourth year was completed in a similar fashion to the latter part of their third year.

The Slytherin’s and Ravenclaw’s religiously kept them away from each other, and Hermione and Blaise nearly went ballistic trying to get the True Mates together for even a few minutes at a time.

A couple weeks before Samhain, her mother took her aside and spelled a mandrake leaf under her tongue for a month, and they started to work on the meditations and potions needed that would allow her to become an Animagus.

She spent four hours every day—two after she woke up, and two before she went to sleep—with Hermione and Severna meditating as they tried to force the transformation to happen as quickly as they could without harming Hera.

Two weeks before the month-long Yule break, they decided that it would be best for her health if she stayed at school, as she had begun to grow more and more ill, and at that point, had spent far too much time in the hospital wing.

They had decided that this would be the best option, after one of her stays in the wing, her mother had helped sneak Tom in, and that was when it was revealed to Poppy that they were True Mates, and the medi-witch had suggested the option, since he would be staying over the break as well.

With four people working to get the two teenagers together—two of them being adults—they were able to meet for a few minutes every day, but still…it was never long enough to ease the growing stress on their Bond. They couldn’t figure out why, but for some reason, the Strain affected Hera more than it affected Tom.

Instead of sticking to the plan of Hera staying at school with Tom for the break, their plans had suddenly changed when Albus Dumbledore finally got wind of what was going on and helped in a way that would be best for _all_ involved.

When it was time for students to sign up to stay at school for the break, Severna pulled Tom aside and informed him that permission had been given from the Headmaster for him to come spend the break with the Black’s.

They—the three adults who were aware of the situation—decided that it would be best that the students didn’t know about the plans. In order to keep up the illusion that he indeed stayed at school, Tom and Hera both floo’d to Black Mansion in Coventry using Severna’s fireplace.

With the two Mates in near constant contact for a month, the Strain on the both of them eased completely, with the downside—only in their situation was it considered a downside—that the Bond grew.

The only other good thing that came from the break, was that Hera had finally been able to complete her Animagus transformation with Tom at her side. She was a small gray bunny with a tiny pink nose—that Tom _absolutely_ fell in love with—and brilliant green eyes that matched her own.

Back at school, they quickly discovered a few things. The first being that his Housemates were _generally_ accepting of the fact that he got a pet rabbit over the break that was simultaneously very clingy and adventurous. It was also quickly discovered that the pet would bite anyone who tried to touch it other than him, Blaise, or Nagini.

The other, equally important fact they discovered, was that as long as he touched her with his skin when she was in her Animagus form, the Strain faded.

The Strain never got to the point that it had been before the break…but it also didn’t get to the complete relaxation that it had had during the break either.

* * *

“Is this seat taken?”

Hera looked up from her book and grinned. “No, go ahead.” Tom moved to sit next to her and pulled her into his arms. When that apparently wasn’t enough to calm the raging inferno inside of him, he pulled her into his lap. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmured softly into his neck while she pressed a hand against the Words on his skin through his clothes.

“I’m going to miss you, too.” She had finally gotten him to the point that he didn’t feel insecure murmuring things like that out loud in English—there were still times (especially around others) when he’d fall back into Parseltongue, but still, it was progress.

“Do you think Demon Lady would let Aztec come and visit you?” she asked softly as she nuzzled his neck. One day, he had needed a name on the spot and had said the first word that had popped into his head. So, the four of them had started to call the bunny Aztec, and even _her_ Aztec when she was in that form.

He nuzzled her neck. “She wouldn’t notice, but the other kids would. And, they like to hurt me, so, they’d hurt you in retaliation.”

She frowned and kissed the crease that formed between his brows and slipped a finger between the buttons of his shirt and behind the waistband of his pants where it immediately began to tingle as the bed of her nail scraped lightly against the Words. He groaned and dropped a kiss to her own Words through the thin fabric of her robes. “Why?” she eventually asked.

He groaned once more when her finger twitched slightly and pulled her closer. “I wasn’t the nicest person before I found you. I’m still not a good person. You make me better though.” She got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t telling her something, but smiled anyway and kissed his cheek, trusting that he would tell her one day.

She ran the fingers of her free hand through his long brown hair and quickly undid the tie at the nape of his neck and played with his chest-length hair slightly as she scratched lightly at the skin beneath her finger. “ **Pest** ,” he half-hissed half-moaned.

He quickly undid the ties at her neck and pressed a kiss to her Words and she instantly melted against him as fire burned through her. A soft moan escaped her lips when his own parted, and his tongue darted out to taste for the first time.

The cabin door rattled against the simple locking charm her Mate had placed, and she quickly shifted to Aztec before it opened. She pulled her right paw out from his clothes and climbed up him and nuzzled his neck. “Don’t worry, Aztec, it’s just us,” Hermione soothed as she and Blaise stepped into the compartment. Hermione put the usual wards up and the four quickly settled in for the 9-hour ride back to London.

It wasn’t long before Hera fell asleep on Tom’s lap with her head tucked into his neck as he read—and eventually fell asleep. Hermione and Blaise fell asleep tangled together as some sort of strange salty bread-knot—pretzel, it was a pretzel, not a salty bread-knot (get it _right_ , Hera).

She was awoken from her place on Tom and lifted her head from his shoulder as he did the same—only his was on her head. He cast a spell on their necks to get out the kinks, and as she looked at her friends on the opposite bench, she came to the conclusion that they had all fallen asleep.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

The four quickly bought their lunches and treats for the rest of the ride before their classmates could find them. They were in the last cabin of the train, but the four of them were still careful, as their alone time had been interrupted before.

“I’m so glad Juniper is going to be gone next year,” Hera lazily commented a few hours later.

“Why?”

Hermione snorted. “She’s the main reason that all of Ravenclaw tries to keep Hera away from Tom. In Ravenclaw, if you’re Head Boy or Girl, Quidditch Captain, or a seventh year Prefect, you’re the top of the pecking order, in that order. It just goes by year after that, and everyone is equal in each year until fifth year when Prefects are selected.”

“That sounds very simple,” Blaise commented from where he laid with his head on Hermione’s lap. He then went on to explain the complexities of Slytherin Politics.

“Wait, so, shouldn’t _Tom_ be the King of Slytherin?”

“Yes, but because he’s only a fourth year, he’s practically already King as everyone looks to him for his approval, and he sits where the King typically sits. It’s just…he was too young to get the official title.”

Her mind swam with all of the useless information that had just been shoved into it for the last hour. “I’m so glad I’m not in Slytherin,” she mumbled gratefully. She tilted her head and looked at Tom. “Do you think we’ll be able to spend more time together next year?” she questioned as she leaned into his insistent tugging on her hair.

He picked her up off of the bench when he again decided it wasn’t close enough, and placed her on his lap. His hand slid under her shirt and rested on her hip, and the Strain eased even more than it had been before—skin contact was the _best thing ever invented_. “If they even _think_ about trying to keep us apart, I’m going to Invoke the Right of the True Bond.”

She pulled away from his neck and stared at him as Hermione’s and Blaise’s argument about something or other broke off and silence reigned. “Are you serious?” Blaise and Hermione started to flail in the background, but she paid them no mind.

He stroked her cheek and the warmth in his eyes made her heart tremble. “Hera, you’re _dying_. I’m going to do anything in my power to keep you alive, even if it means I have to Invoke the Right.”

The Right of the True Bond could only be Invoked if a True Soulmate Pair was being kept away from each other by outside forces. It was typically used during natural disasters, but it wasn’t unheard of to have it be used in a situation similar to theirs. It was the fastest _and_ easiest way to get the Mates back together again.

By implementing the Right, in the case of people being the cause of the separation, it punished all of those who took part in the separation, and Lady Magic herself would Judge them accordingly. Most who were Judged often lost their Magic, and in consequence, their Life—different from life, as a witch or wizard couldn’t function with their magic being taken away, and would go insane, thus, they lost their will to live, their Life.

Along with the Judgement, the Pair would be Bonded wholly and irrevocably in the Purest form of Magic, and it would become _impossible_ to keep the Mates apart—hence the reason why it was used during a natural disaster.

Hera stared at him in awe before she cupped one cheek and placed a kiss on the other cheek. “ **Thank you** ,” she whispered softly.

He brushed his nose against hers and nodded minutely. “ **Of course, my Hera**.”

“Alright, as cute it is to see you two all cuddly and romantic, I don’t want to see it right now,” Blaise moaned playfully. Hermione smacked him and he whimpered as he rubbed his shoulder. “I want to spend time with my _friends_.”

They laughed, talked, snuggled, and goofed off the rest of the way back to London.

* * *

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Hera demanded softly as she tugged at her dress again. Hermione slapped her hand, and she started to tug on her earrings.

Over the summer she had gotten four more piercings in each ear, and an additional two in her right—she had grown somewhat… _fond_ of having one ear more decorated than the other ( _thanks_ papa). She now had four lobe piercings in both ears, and three cartilage piercings in both ears, and in her right ear she now had a tragus, and an orbital piercing.

She wore three diamond studs in the last three piercings on her lobes with the largest closest to her face, and the smallest furthest. In the first piercing, she wore long, dangling earrings that had stars and moons that changed colors with her mood. She had hoop earrings in two of her cartilage piercings in each ear, and a small diamond stud in the remaining cartilage hole in each. She had a small emerald stud in her tragus, and an ouroboros in her orbital.

“Stop that!” Hermione hissed as they walked down the street, “you’re going to tear one of them.”

She went back to fidgeting with her short dress.

Blaise stopped them and put his hands on her bare shoulders, nauseatingly close to her concealed Words. “Hera, I swear to Merlin, if you do not stop fidgeting, I _will_ hex you. Painfully.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

“How many laws are we going to be breaking today?” she asked in a panic.

“Wizarding or muggle?”

“Both.”

“We’ll be breaking at least four wizarding, and maybe two muggle. It depends on what you consider to be breaking and entering. And kidnapping,” Hermione answered.

That didn’t make her feel better.

At all.

“Look, Hera. Sirius, Regulus, and even _Lucius_ assured us that we wouldn’t be caught today, remember? Besides, Harry, you need this. You won’t last much longer before you start to go crazy from the stress on the Bond,” Hermione snapped.

Hera groaned, picked at the organza once more, before she grabbed her friends’ hands and they were off once more.

Seriously, if they got out of this unscathed, she would eat one of Lilian’s attempts at poisoning—she claimed it was cooking, but she _severely_ doubted it.

| ~~}(HJPB){~~ |

In the end, it happened quicker—and easier—than planned.

They had knocked on the door to the dingy building and walked into the orphanage when it was opened and confunded the kid—who couldn’t have been older than ten—to take them to the Demon Lady—gleefully, he knew _exactly_ who they were talking about.

Once in the presence of Mrs. Cole, they then compelled her to tell them where Tom was, and to let him out for the day. They had considered using the Imperius for this part, but had ultimately decided against it because her father _woefully_ informed them that it was one of the few spells that he and Regulus couldn’t bypass the Trace—apparently, he wanted to come and cast the Curse on the woman himself, but decided that making sure his daughter and her friends didn’t get sent to Azkaban was far more important.

Once the woman was drooling all over herself—thanks to Retribution by Blaise Zabini—they made their way to the backyard where he was. On their way, they confunded all of the children into thinking that they were just random people and to not pay attention to them and to stay away from the backyard.

They stood on the rotting porch for a short while before Hermione and Blaise unceremoniously shoved her out to go to him.

It kind of hurt.

| ~~}(TMR){~~ |

Tom ignored the hissed conversation that came from his seemingly eternal prison.

He turned the page in his school book and continued to read and ignore all of his surroundings. He dutifully ignored the hesitant footsteps as they slowly stumbled to him, and figured that one of the new kids had been dared to come talk to him. He sighed, internally groaned, and wrangled his Dark Magic into quick submission.

Apparently, Underage Magic couldn’t be Traced if it was intentional, _wandless_ Magic.

“Is this seat taken?”

His head snapped up, and immediately thought that he was seeing things. Had his mind finally begun to go insane from the lack of his Hera?

In front of him stood his Mate in a short summer halter dress that was made of a thin flowy material that was slightly see through as the wind blew around them. It had several layers of fabric around her chest and hips until it was opaque, and created a jagged hem, and was a rich green color that complemented her bright eyes. Her Words were concealed, and she wore brown leather sandals, and she seemed to glow in the midsummer sun despite the slightly gray tinge of her skin.

“Hera?”

She grinned and nodded. “Hi, Tom.”

In a blink of an eye he stood and had his arms wrapped tightly around her, and the unease fatigue, and pain started to fade. “You look amazing,” he whispered into her ear. He pressed a kiss to the skin of her neck and breathed in her unique scent. She burrowed into his arms, and he looked up when he heard footsteps and saw Blaise and Hermione approaching. “What are the three of you doing here?” He pulled away from his Mate but kept his right arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

“Breaking countless laws,” Blaise answered cheekily as they awkwardly shook left hands.

Hermione stepped forward and the two kissed each other’s cheeks as their Society demanded. “You know, nothing but the usual.”

He snorted and pulled on his Mate so she stood in front of him and practically draped himself over her. She was tall for her age, but so was he. He towered over their friends and he constantly used it to his advantage. She looked up and he propped his chin on her forehead after he pressed a kiss there. “You grew again,” she pouted.

“In my defense, so did you.”

“Yeah, an _inch_. I think you grew _three_!”

He wasn’t sure, but he assumed that she was close. “Alright, children. Enough bickering,” Hermione teased—he wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that she was older than him and constantly rubbed it in his face (okay, he was aware, and he didn’t like it at all). “We really need to get going before we’re caught.”

“You weren’t joking about the law breaking, were you,” he demanded in a deadpan tone as he tightened his hold on his Hera and his primal urges rose up once more.

“Of course not, love. Why would we lie about something like that?”

“I can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can. We compelled some, confunded some, you know, just the basic illegal things. As long as you’re back before midnight, Cinderella, we’re good.”

He scowled, regretting telling her that story, and before he could respond, the distant sounds of apparation reached them.

“Portkey. Now.”

| ~~}(HJPB){~~ |

They were in a heap on the floor in the family room in the mansion.

“Well, I rather thought that we had taught you better than that, sweetling, but I guess not,” Severna commented lightly from where she had just finished feeding her youngest brother, Octavian.

“Mama!” Hera wailed softly from her place on the plush rug. “Give us a break, will you? We were in a hurry!”

“You pushed it too close, didn’t you?”

Her Mate sat up and pulled her into his lap. “Maybe.”

The floo activated behind them and her father and Uncle Regulus stepped in, both with minor scowls on their faces, and pride in their eyes—she suspected that Uncle Lucius had a similar look, wherever he was. “You pushed it too close.”

Hera groaned and hid her head in Tom’s shoulder. “Do they know it was us?”

“No. I can’t believe you think I’d let my daughter get caught breaking the law like that,” he sniffed before the two adults started to help the four dizzy teenagers up—portkeying into a room was always worse than portkeying to an outdoor location. “I’m so proud of you!” He yanked her from her Mate’s hold and spun her around the room as if she were a doll. “My baby’s all grown up!” He tossed her into the air and caught her and repeated the action until she was able to wrap her arms around him in a way that prevented him from doing it again.

“Brother dearest, I thought we all agreed to not encourage breaking the law.”

Tom helped her out of her father’s grip and the door opened as two, very large, snakes rushed in hissing happily. “Yes well…that agreement was made before Hera found Tom.”

The true meaning behind his words went unsaid, but they seemed to echo violently throughout her home as Posidion wrapped around her, and Nagini around Tom.

She buried her face in her Mate’s shoulder once more.

| ~~}(HJPB){~~ |

The time for her Mate’s departure approached quickly, and Hera desperately wished that he could just stay. The horrendous gray tone that her skin had taken on in the last few days had finally faded, and she knew that once he was gone, it would come back. She wanted him to stay with her.

Everything was _right_ when he was there, even if the whole world was on fire…she would be safe as long as he was there.

“I don’t want you to go,” she murmured softly, “you take all of the bad things and make them bearable.” He pulled her closer, buried his nose in her hair, and breathed deeply.

They sat on a chair swing that hung from a thick branch of an ancient angel oak tree that had moss clinging to it, and thick vines that hung low. They were surrounded by smaller oak trees, aspens, and enough flowering weeping willows, bushes, and flowers to hide both the faint glowing lights of the mansion, and most of the brilliant light of the full moon.

The wind blew harshly for a moment and she was glad that she had changed before they came out into a thick, white button up shirt and gray slacks. The chair they sat in creaked slightly as it swung back and forth, guided by Tom’s long legs. The swing was large enough to comfortably fit the two of them, but small enough that there were only a couple inches left on either side of the snuggling Mates.

They had been staring at the faint flashes of stars they could see through the branches of the angel oak for the last hour, and had remained mostly silent as they occasionally placed kisses where their mouths could easily reach.

Hermione and Blaise had left quite some time ago—shortly after dinner—and she was sure that her mother and three siblings had long since gone to bed, while her father was either in his office working or in the library waiting to take Tom home.

“I don’t want to go either,” he murmured into her hair. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he gently turned her face up and began to pepper kisses all over it. After he had kissed her nose twice, he paused and pulled away slightly. She looked into the blown irises of his eyes and her heart thundered in her chest. “I’m going to kiss you now, my Hera,” he murmured softly.

She nudged ever so slightly closer, and he ran his thumb over her cheekbone. Her eyes fluttered closed, and his lips pressed so softly against her own. She swore then and there, as her heart, blood, magic, and soul hummed as one, and became intertwined with him, that all of the pain, fatigue, depression, and self-loathing that hovered on the outskirts of her ever-present shadows apparated away.

He pulled away for a moment, and she felt his breath fan against her lips, before he surged back in with a firmer press of his lips. Her Mate kissing her felt better than anything else in the world. It was better than when he touched or kissed her Words, and was most definitely better than when she kissed his.

When he pulled away for the second time, she pressed her forehead to his, and brushed her nose against his. “I love you, my Hera,” he murmured and kissed her again with his full lips.

“I love you, too, Tom.”

She pressed forward and kissed his lips, and curled her arms around his neck and tried to pull herself flush against him.

The kiss was innocent and slow, until it wasn’t.

His tongue hesitantly brushed against her lips, and fire pulsed almost painfully in her soul when she opened her mouth and cautiously met his tongue with her own.

The kiss remained slow, but no longer could it be qualified as innocent.

He pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him, and his hands held her hips as he pulled her close to him. His tongue wrapped languidly and hesitantly around her own as she ran her fingers through his long hair.

Her hands slowly trailed down his chest and undid the buttons of his shirt as she did so; her fingers occasionally brushed the skin of his chest and sent tingles straight to her heart. His own hands slipped to her hips, and the way he gripped her caused the shirt to raise, so his fingertips were against her skin. He pulled her impossibly closer to him, and forced her to sit down on his lap.

A soft sigh left her mouth at his closeness, and the fire that pulsed through her due to it as well. When her slim fingers reached the bottom of his shirt, her hands started on his belt and clumsily undid the buckle. When that was done, she dipped two fingers down behind his waistband with one hand and curled her hand around his neck with her left.

As her fingers pressed against the Words that had marred him from the moment he was born, he groaned low into her mouth, and faint stars twinkled beneath her eyelids. His hands released her for a moment to shift his pants so she could press her palm fully against the letters.

His hands were back on her, this time under her shirt. As his teeth hesitantly nipped at her bottom lip, his right hand slowly slid up her back until the entirety of his bare forearm pressed against her skin.

His free hand left its place from her hip and fell back on her at the collar of her shirt and undid the top three buttons. He slowly peeled the fabric away until her Words were out for the entire world to see. He pressed his palm to them, and the faint, glittering stars turned to supernovas as pleasure she had never felt before rushed through her at dizzying speeds, and continued to build the longer his hand was there.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, connected at the mouth, their Words, and their souls, but when they pulled away, two more buttons had been unbuttoned, and her hands had remained mostly where they were, the only difference was that her left hand, instead of curled around the nape of his neck, was tangled into his hair. And his hands were also nearly in the same places, only the one that had been under her shirt now cupped her face as if she were a precious, and breakable thing meant to be cherished.

“Hera!” the faint voice of her father reached them from the mansion nearly half a mile away. “Tom! It’s time to go!”

They both groaned softly before they quickly made themselves presentable—although knowing her father, he would be over the moon to know about their most recent activities. They held hands as they walked through the veritable maze of nature, and laughed softly and teased each other when the other tripped over hidden roots.

They met up with her father on the large, stone back porch. Just before the two left, her Mate pressed a soft kiss to her lips that made her want to weep.

“Happy 15th birthday, my Hera, **my love**.”

* * *

_Fifth Year_

“Is this seat ta—Merlin, Hera, are you alright?” Tom ran into the cabin and knelt in front of his Soulmate where she lay curled on the bench.

It was just the two of them in the last cabin, and he didn’t know how long she had been there. He had gotten there 20 minutes before the train was to depart—like usual—and she usually either arrived a few minutes after him, or ten minutes before the train departed.

“Tom,” she whispered. Her skin was gray, her curly hair limp, and her green eyes dull as she looked at him.

“What happened?” he asked as desperation coursed through him. He ran a hand through her hair as she reached out a shaking hand to him. She pressed it against his neck and weakly pulled him close. He willingly went, and his Mate rewarded him with a soft press of her lips against his own.

When he pulled away a few seconds later to demand an answer, she appeared to be better. “The Strain,” he answered for her.

She nodded her head. “Yeah, we snuck in a couple weeks ago, but, you weren’t there, and we tried a couple times after that, but the banshee wouldn’t let us in.”

He closed his eyes as guilt somehow overrode the familiar and safe primal instincts that had become comfortable and began to eat him alive. “I was buying school things. It was the only day that she let me out to do it.” She stroked his cheek and kissed him once more. “I’m so sorry, my Hera.” He was too overwhelmed with the emotions inside of him to notice his own Strain from the stressed Bond had begun to fade.

She shook her head. “Please don’t. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed her once more before he stood and pulled her into his arms and sat down and ran his fingers through her long black hair once more, and his soul settled back into the primal dance that had consumed him for the last four years.

The door slid open, and he glared at whoever dared to interrupt them and quickly forced his powerful magic into a fine point to do as much damage as possible if they _didn’t leave_. He was just barely able to stop from impaling the intruder when Blaise pretended to die as he tumbled to the ground in front of him and grasped at his heart as he ‘choked’.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill my Mate with your glares, _or_ your magic, Tom. I have grown quite fond of him,” Hermione stated lightly as she stepped over him and sat on the bench across from the True Mates.

“I apologize,” he murmured before he went back to peppering kisses all over Hera’s face.

“Merlin, Hera, you look like you got hit by the Knight Bus,” Blaise tactlessly commented as he settled down next to his own Mate.

Hera laughed softly and curled into his chest and something in him simultaneously purred and growled at the action. “I _feel_ like I got hit by the Knight Bus.”

The three eldest exchanged glances before they all continued—tried and failed—to ignore what was obviously in front of them.

Hera was getting worse.

* * *

Hera looked at her feet as she exited the bathroom, and instantly regretted it when she ran into someone before the door had even closed behind her. She looked up with an apology already beginning to spill from her lips, only to stop when her Mate kissed her softly.

“I’m not sure if I should take points off for you using the Prefect’s Bathroom, or kiss you senseless,” he murmured when he pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers, and she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’m allowed to use the bathroom,” she stated softly. She ran her hands up his chest and undid the tie at the nape of his neck and ran her fingers through his long hair. She appreciated—absolutely fell more in love with him every time—that he followed the Pureblood Culture.

Those of noble families were to wear their hair long, and tied back unless they were with family.

He sighed softly when she scraped her nails gently along his scalp, and he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I? I’m not meaning to,” she said sincerely. She pulled her hands away, and laughed when he immediately grabbed one and put it back on his head.

“Just because you’re distracting me, doesn’t mean that I can’t function.” She lifted a brow in a silent challenge. He just smirked, lifted a brow in amusement, and pressed a slightly open-mouthed kiss to the skin below her ear, and swiped his tongue along her skin before he pulled away. “I wasn’t aware that you were made Prefect,” he whispered into her ear.

She giggled softly, and gasped when he pulled the lobe between his teeth and began to nibble on the skin just below her earrings. She tightened her hold on his hair and pulled him closer as he growled softly. “I’m not a Prefect, that is true. However, I’m sure you’re aware that Quidditch Captains can use it as well.”

He released her ear and straightened. “You’re Captain?”

“Yep. Youngest Ravenclaw Captain in nearly 150 years. I found out today. Dorian didn’t want the stress on top of his seven NEWTs, so he and Flitwick decided that I would be the best replacement.”

He grinned. “That’s wonderful, darling,” he whispered before he kissed her softly, but still managed to somehow make her see stars.

It was a week into the school year, and so far, everything had been going well for the True Mates. Tom was the Slytherin King—as predicted—and she was now Quidditch Captain—an unexpected bonus, but one they didn’t resent as she was now ‘second in command’ in her House.

They had been able to spend much more time together without people pulling them apart at every turn—at least, the Slytherin’s didn’t try to pull them apart at _all_ , and only a few Ravenclaw’s did, and the Lions and the Badgers prevented them from being separated if they saw something like that happening.

She suspected that the fact that Tom had threatened the Right of the True Bond had gotten out—she also suspected Blaise had something to do with it. She also assumed that he let slip her Titles because Gryffindor’s were constantly begging to see her Heir Ring, while Slytherin’s begged to see the Emrys and Le Fey Rings. She wasn’t sure if the Houses she was Heir Consort to had gotten out though…

If it _was_ Blaise, she was going to kill him.

Her Mate pulled away from her for a moment before he moved them into an alcove a little way down the hallway, and pushed her against the stone wall. He smiled at her, and her heart stuttered in her chest at his slightly disheveled look, and before she could admire anymore, he pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss that had her toes curling before he nuzzled her nose with his.

“I am so proud of you,” he growled before he pulled her into another kiss. The faint stars she saw from his lips alone suddenly changed to supernovas as he pressed his lean fingers against her Words. Her legs weakened, and he smirked against her lips before he took one of her hands and pressed it to his own Words.

Bad idea.

He moaned into her mouth, and suddenly they were both on the ground as neither could hold the other up. They stared owlishly at each other before they started to laugh manically.

She eventually was able to get her laughter under control, and he followed after, and he wiped at her cheeks where tears of laughter had fallen as she did the same to him. He stroked her flushed cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He stood and helped her up and the two adjusted their clothes, so it didn’t look like they had just been wildly making out behind a tapestry.

“Walk me back?” she asked softly once they were presentable. She reached out and pulled on his tie and bit her lip at the heated dark look he sent her.

He laughed lowly and pulled her close as flames scorched through her veins. He bent down and kissed the skin behind her ear. “ **I would love to, my beautiful Mate**.”

They slowly made their way up to the Ravenclaw tower from the fifth floor. It was only slow going because her Mate would constantly make them stop before he’d push her into an alcove, or behind a tapestry and kiss her hungrily for a few minutes before he’d allow them to continue on.

They eventually arrived at the bronze eagle and he kissed her once more and stood behind her as the statue started on the riddle. While she listened, she had to fight to concentrate as he decided it would be an absolutely _wonderful_ time to nibble on her neck _extremely_ close to her Words.

_I am a feeling expressed by words._

_I am truthfully told by few,_

_and I am lies from many._

_I can cause the greatest of happiness,_

_or I can cause the deepest of sorrows._

_Yet still, one comes back_

_for all of the Tomorrows._

_What am I?_

She had to think for a few moments before the answer came to her—it would have come _quicker_ if _someone_ had not decided that he wanted to kiss her Words and did so…with _tongue_.

“You are love.”

Her Mate groaned and drooped against her as the large statue stepped aside and the large, open, and airy common room was revealed. She wrestled out of his tight grasp, laughing as he tried to lift her off of the ground but failed when she elbowed him in the stomach—it was completely by accident as well. She stepped towards the opening and put her foot in the gap to prevent her from having to answer another riddle—which, she suspected Tom would be more than happy to _help_ her.

“I love you,” she whispered to Tom before she kissed him softly.

He stepped towards her and pressed his lips back to hers when she tried to pull away and put his hands on her hips. “And I love you,” he whispered back. He wrapped his long arms around her and buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. “ **Yet still I stand, ready to come back for all of the Tomorrows, _always_** ,” he hissed lovingly. He released her and grabbed her hands, and pressed a kiss to each knuckle before he left, never breaking eye contact, and set her heart racing painfully in her chest.

She stumbled into the common room with her hand pressed against her violently—pleasantly—tingling Words and a goofy grin on her face. She paused and flushed when she saw everyone was staring at her.

“What?” she demanded softly in a shaky voice.

Dorian shook his head softly as Hermione came to stand next to her. “Nothing. You two are cute together,” he answered for their Housemates.

“Are you two Soulmates?” a first year muggleborn who was absolutely _besotted_ with the idea of Soulmates demanded. All of the upper years had to suffer that question near constantly, and she was lucky that she had lasted that long before it was directed to her by the eager boy.

She looked to Hermione and when she nodded Hera nodded. “Yes. He’s my Soulmate.”

Before any more questions could be asked, she and her best friend escaped to their dorm room where they were ignored by the other 10 girls in their year.

* * *

His Mate was in the hospital wing.

Again.

And again…it wasn’t for a Quidditch injury.

His surroundings didn’t register as he stormed towards the room that dared to keep his Mate away from him. His magic flared around him and stabbed at every obstacle in his way, be it animate or inanimate.

The Primal Beast had awoken, and it would _not_ be kept away from his Mate.

Nagini and Posidion were wrapped tightly around him, and Blaise, Hermione, and Professor Black— _call me Severna, dear, you’re family_ —followed after him and muttered apologies to those his magic snapped at.

Well…the humans did.

The snakes demanded the blood of everyone and every _thing_ they saw—even if it didn’t _have_ blood (one day, he would the point across that the suits of armor were _hollow_ ).

The heavy doors of the hospital wing slammed open with a deafening crash, and, had he not been so lost to Instinct, he would have noticed the long, deep splinters in them. He marched passed all of the professors and summoned healers that were gathered around his Mate’s bed.

He laid himself on the bed next to her—much to the healers’ very _vocal_ indignation—and pulled her close as the Beast and his magic wrapped around her. Nagini and Posidion moved to blanket the two of them with their large bodies and snapped at the **two-legged twig snacks** who dared to even _look_ at the Silver Mates.

Tom peppered kisses along her face and neck as his hands slid underneath her school shirt and gripped tightly at her waist. His Mate weakly nuzzled his jaw with her nose, and the Beast calmed slightly.

“And you are?”

Apparently one of the healer’s was a Gryffindor, once upon a time.

Disgusting.

Nagini and Posidion lunged for the man, and he only lived due to Hermione and Blaise who wrapped their arms around the large snakes. “I’m her Soulmate,” he snarled at the ignorant healer before he went back to showering his Hera with attention, and the snakes went back to sapping their warmth and continuing the year-long debate on the best way to strangle someone without killing them.

He ignored the adults around them as they spoke, debated the results of tests done on his love, and tried to not anger the hissing snakes.

Good idea.

He pulled his Mate close, and sung softly in her ear a lullaby that Nagini had taught him after he saved her from Billy Stubbs. As he sang, Posidion and Nagini joined in. He had slightly altered the lyrics, as instead of ‘Mate’, the snakes sang ‘hatchling’.

**_Rest my Love, my Mate._ **

**_I am here, don’t you fear._ **

**_I will protect you_ **

**_Poison all who threaten you_ **

**_Bite all who harm you._ **

**_You will be safe in my coils tonight._ **

**_Nothing will touch you but my love._ **

**_I am here, don’t you fear._ **

**_Rest tight, my Mate, in my coils._ **

“ **I love you, Tom** ,” she whispered to him once they finished singing. Posidion and Nagini somehow squeezed their heads in the small space between their chests and flicked their tongues out and touched their noses—they also tried to get input on the Great Debate of Strangulation (as what his Hera calls it).

“ **And I love you, my Hera, my Mate**.” He pulled her close and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“ **Hey! Enough of that! How would you hatchlings strangle someone but not kill them**?”

As the four were busy discussing strangulation, and the best tactics to get information, none of them were aware of those who watched them, nor were they aware of the plans and ideas that started to form.

Eventually the True Mates were able to fall out of the morbid conversation and spoke softly to each other, their friends, and her family when her father arrived with them shortly after Tom had.

The look he received from her father confused and disturbed him—he would have thought that seeing his daughter in bed with a boy would have infuriated him, instead he waggled his eyebrows and held his thumbs up.

The looks that promised death from her uncle and grandfather were far more comforting.

When the floo flared again after a half hour of chatting between the thirteen of them, they all paused and froze completely when seven Unspeakable’s stepped into the room.

“Heiress Potter-Black,” the middle one started in a clearly modified voice that had his Mate shivering and pressing against him.

The Beast awoke once more and his magic snapped at the newcomer who _dare_ scare her while the snakes took on the role of comforting her—why they thought debates about _venom_ was comforting, he would never know (but it worked, so…).

The group took a step back as one and his magic calmed slightly, but the Ancient Beast remained close to the surface as his magic wrapped around his Mate once more.

“We specialize in the studies of Soul Magic, and we have been called in to see if we can help figure out what is wrong with you.”

From the way the man—woman?—spoke, it was clear that they already had a pretty good idea as to what was wrong.

“It’s not Soul Magic that’s going to save me,” Hera muttered as she snuggled into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer—somehow (the snakes protested very much so, as they had to move, lest their heads get squished). “Our Bond is just fine, thank you very much.”

“May we see your Words?”

Before he could even think about his actions, he was out of the bed as he growled and holding the Unspeakable off of the floor by their robes. The only reason that the man—woman?—was alive was because Blaise and Hermione sent strong shocking hexes at his back.

“Tom, mate, it’s to help her. If it’ll make you feel better, you can show yours too.”

He glared at the unknown person in his grasp before he reluctantly put them down.

To ask someone—a stranger especially—to see their Words, was not only inappropriate and insulting, but if done in the presence of their Mate— _Tom_ —gave them— _Tom_ —permission to punish the perpetrator as they— _Tom_ —saw fit— _without_ legal repercussions.

“Tom.” He was immediately back in the bed and wrapped around his Mate. “It’s okay,” she murmured, “if they think it’ll help…” she trailed off and he sighed, but the Primordial Beast roared. He helped her sit up and fought the urge to hide her away from the world as she unbuttoned the first three buttons of her top before she folded the fabric over to reveal the Silver Words that shimmered softly in the dim lighting of the hospital wing.

The Unspeakable’s stepped closer, and his Mate tilted her head to the right and into his neck as the one who had spoken—the only one who _had_ spoken thus far—reached out a pale hand and brushed a thin, slightly feminine, finger lightly across the letters.

Hera immediately pulled away from them both and leaned over the side of the bed and puked next to her sister. “Hera!?”

“Do not worry. It is common for True Mates to have that reaction the stronger the Bond is. Heiress Potter-Black, have you always had that reaction?”

She sat up and wiped at her mouth as the matron of the wing magicked away the sick and smell, and sent a cleaning charm at his Mate’s mouth. “No. It was always uncomfortable to have people touch them, especially after I met Tom, but, it’s just gotten worse over the years, more so the last couple.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” The Unspeakable turned to him. “And you, Mr….”

“Tom Riddle.”

“Mr. Riddle, are you going to show us your Words? It will help with figuring out what’s wrong.”

He glanced at Hera and stroked her Words to sooth the aching Beast before he nodded. He stood and slid out of his outer robes before he took his knit cardigan vest with his House Crest stitched on it off. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid that off before he unbuckled his belt and slid his slacks down a couple of inches. In his Mate’s perfect, and neat handwriting, the Words that had marked him for as long as he could remember glowed brightly in the room.

The Unspeakable’s took one look at his Words, and exchanged heated whispers in a language that he had never heard—but, if he had to guess, it was probably the Vows that they had taken making it impossible for those not under them to understand. They turned back to them, and in a grave voice, almost as one, they stated: “The Bond has Soured.”

It was then, as he stared at their Markings, side by side, that he realized his were brighter. Much brighter. It was only a few moments later that the words spoken by seven masked individuals registered in his mind.

“What?”

* * *

 _Page 476 of_ the Intricacies of Soulmates _by Joan Selwyn_

_As Silver Words are so rare, it is beyond our understanding as to why certain things happen to those with them, i.e. why their Bond is so much stronger, why it’s so intertwined with their Cores…_

_Most believe that because their Bond is destined to be so pure, that it would be impossible for their unique Bond to Sour, but, there have been a few cases where that has happened._

_In order to explain this phenomenon, you must recall that when normal Soulmate Bonds Sour, it is typically due to some sort of irrevocable misunderstanding, betrayal, or argument, and that is what causes the Bond to break._

_With a True Bond, it is not completely known as to why a Bond of that magnitude and purity Sours. Some suspect that it could be caused by the same reasons as a normal Bond, but, it doesn’t make sense from a logical stand point._

_True Mates have been proven to understand each other completely and perfectly, and rarely are there misunderstandings between the Pair. They, like all couples, have arguments that take some time to heal from, but heal they will. Also proven by researchers in the subject is that True Soulmates are incapable of hating or even hurting their Soulmate._

_In my opinion, which is based on heavy research, I believe that when a True Mate Bond Sours, it is not a_ true _Souring of the Bond. It is merely that something happened in the beginning of the Bonding process, or during a crucial stage to it, and it caused the Bond near permanent damage._

_Unlike with a normal Bond, it is possible to fix a Soured True Soulmate Bond. The only solution found and proven to fix it, is with a rare bit of magic known as a True Horcrux, more commonly known as just a Horcrux._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guy's love for this story has absolutely BLOWN me away. Thank you.


	4. Part Four

Hera desperately wished that she didn’t know what had gone wrong. As soon as they announced that the Bond had Soured, she knew _exactly_ what had happened.

 _She was ashamed_.

She then immediately wished that their Bond _hadn’t_ Soured, and that they were normal Mates who could live long, happy lives together. But…when were the Heirs and their Soulmate of eight very important Houses _normal_?

“Heir Potter-Black, do you have any idea as to what could have gone wrong? Did something happen between the two of you?”

Why, oh _why_ did he have to ask _her_?

Tom was dressed once more, and she was curled up against his chest as his hands rested on her stomach under her shirt. His hands were shaking, his breathing was uneven, and the edges of his magic alternated between smooth and comforting, to sharp and agitated. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

_So, so ashamed._

“Pup?”

A tear leaked out of her eyes. “Our Houses wouldn’t let us be together,” she offered, although it sounded much more like a question than a reason.

She knew it wasn’t enough for them to believe her, and it wasn’t even the _reason_ behind the Souring…but…she hadn't told _anyone_ other than her mother…. And even then…she hadn’t told her the actual extent of what _had_ happened.

Merlin…. _How_ could she tell someone after all of this time?

“While that may have had an effect in the beginning, it wouldn’t have affected you this much in the long run. Behavior like that doesn’t even _touch_ a True Bond.”

_So damn ashamed._

Tom nuzzled her neck, and she bit her lip again. This time, she bit it so hard that blood flooded her mouth. “Hera!” her father gasped before he gently wrestled her tip out from her teeth. Her Mate pressed a desperate kiss to the side of her neck while Madam Pomfrey swiftly healed it.

She felt something hot land on her collar bone, and looked to her mother. She shook her head as her eyes watered—Merlin, _Tom_ was _crying_ , because of _her_ (the pain… _oh the pain_ ).

 _The **shame**_.

Her mother nodded minutely as understanding flickered in her dark eyes. “Hera was Cursed in her third year.”

The way she said it, let everyone know that it wasn’t just some spell that destroyed your body or mind, it was something meant to destroy your _soul_.

Another hot drop landed on her collarbone as her Soulmate sucked in a deep breath. And then thunder and oppressive _fear_ crashed through the room in a painful wave as her Mate’s magic flared around them. “What,” he gasped, his voice barely more than a breath of air. “Why didn’t you _tell me_?” he demanded louder, but no more firm than a piece of parchment in the middle of a microburst.

He moved out from behind her and she swore her heart shattered.

_So…ashamed._

“I didn’t know how to,” she gasped. He stormed to the other side of the room with his hands buried deep into his suddenly, unbound long hair. She curled in on herself as agonizing pain made its way from her heart to her Words.

“Depending on the Curse, it could affect the Bond to the point that it has,” the Unspeakable said to her family—she was _absolutely_ of no use at the moment. “Do you happen to know what the Stipulations of the Curse were?”

Hera stared at Tom and silently begged him to come back. She needed him. This pain…it was too much. She couldn’t handle it on top of the pain that their Soured Bond wrecked on her. Her nails seemed to cut through her shirt and into her Words as desperate sobs shook her body.

“No. She just told me she was Cursed,” her mother’s voice reached her from the hole of Hell she was in. Lilian put her small hand on her shoulder, and she was grounded slightly by the touch and the words while she predatorily watched her Mate while he paced back and forth and desperately tried to get his violent magic under control.

Posidion squeezed his head between the gap of her arms and chest and flicked his tongue out and touched her nose. She tore her eyes away from her Mate and nuzzled her familiar’s nose. “ **Everything will be fine, hatchling** ,” he soothed before he started to hum.

She didn’t know how he did it, but he _could_ , so he _did_.

That was how Posidion worked.

When her eyes turned back to her Mate, Nagini had wrapped around him.

“I looked at the Curse, and it didn’t seem like it would have too much of an effect on her at the time, due to how weak it was, and it even seemed like it would fade over time. I had checked her multiple times that year, and everything seemed to be fine by exams, and the Curse had completely left her Core. That summer I had a prior student of mine who’s gone into Curse-breaking, and he said everything was fine, and that it didn’t appear to affect her, and that it was indeed gone.”

 _The shame was eating her alive_.

Her mother sat on the bed and pulled her sobbing body into her arms as she ignored the hissing snake—they knew better than to bite her (they had tried it once, and after her retaliation, they never did it again—they also refused to talk about it).

She kept her eyes on Tom as she was rocked slowly side to side as her nails cut into her Words. He finally, _slowly_ , started to turn towards her, and he had a hand over his own Words too. Pain crossed his face and he turned away once more as his magic throbbed.

“Heiress Potter-Black, would you be willing to tell us the Stipulations of the Curse, and who cast it?” When she continued to just stare at her Mate, the woman continued, “Heir—Hera. If you don’t tell us, we can’t figure out what happened to the Bond, and if there is any way to keep it from happening again when— _if_ we do fix the Bond.”

_So much shame._

She sat up and played with her fingers as she got hold of herself. Her mother rubbed her back encouragingly and she started to speak slowly. Her eyes never left her Mate while she spoke, and every word seemed to stab something sharp, deep into her heart. “Juniper Jones. She was a sixth year at the time. She had found me with Tom in the library—” her Mate turned back to her, and she knew he knew exactly _when_ she was talking about “—she got me away from him, and we went to the Quidditch Pitch.

“When we got there, she uh…she immobilized me, and…and…and then she knelt down next to me, and—uh…she…she said that every time I was near Tom, or looked at him, thought about him, or touched him, that I would regret it. She said that it would hurt to do any of those things. I didn’t know what to do or who to tell, so…I went to mama, and she said that it would be fine, that it wasn’t too strong…so…I just tried to forget about it.”

“Did it hurt to do any of those things mentioned?”

She met the pained blue eyes of her Mate, and her own watered as she saw the tear tracks on his cheeks, and his own tears. She shook her head, and he relaxed only slightly before he tensed at something Nagini told him.

“Not really, no. I mean, there would be small aches and pains, but, nothing worth actually paying attention to. It didn’t even last that long, only for a month, there about…maybe less. I just noticed that it didn’t… _twinge_ to think about him after a month. Besides, she had done a well enough job at making it so my Housemates kept me away from him, that other than thinking about him, it didn’t affect me.”

She couldn’t bear to look at the pain reflected in the deep oceanic pools that she so loved, and turned away from him as the Unspeakable’s stepped away and spoke amongst themselves with their arms flailing around them.

Arms wrapped around her and pulled her from her mother’s arms, and she immediately burrowed deep into her Mate’s warm embrace. “ **I’m going to kill her. I am going to rip her limb from limb, and I am going to heal her, and I am going to continue to do that for as long as the _bitch_ manages to live**,” he hissed into her ear as he hugged her almost too painfully.

She didn’t care. She’d rather have this…pain? than have his absence.

“ **You are welcome to do that, Silver Mate, _after_ I bite her**,” Posidion hissed as he got into Tom’s face.

Nagini bobbed her head. “ **Actually, hatchling, after _I_ bite her as well**!” Their familiars then began to chat about how to make the ‘ **human rooster** ’—don’t ask her—pay.

Hera snorted softly and spoke to her family who looked at her in question. “We have two murderous snakes who are debating how to bite her and make it the most painful, and a pissed off Soulmate also coming up with the most painful way to die.” Tom nuzzled her neck and kissed her skin as he smirked.

Her father snorted and shifted Octavian in his arms. “I think those snakes are bad influences on the two of you.”

She tilted her head to the right and against her Mate’s head. “How do you know it’s not the other way around?”

Her father analyzed her and Tom for a moment before he shook his head. “Nope. Not possible. I _refuse_ to believe that my little angel is more _sadistic_ than that bloody snake that chokes me whenever it misses you. It comes and _finds_ me, at _home_ to do that, _when you’re both here_! I don’t even know how he _gets_ to the mansion!” He sounded depressingly close to tears.

“He laughs quite gleefully when he does it too,” Tom informed him as the snake preened at the ‘ **great praise offered by the man-dog** ’.

Her father looked to the heavens, and then the snake, and put James and Lilian between him and Posidion—even though Little Lily was already there. “Collateral damage,” he said with a playful wink.

_Shouldn’t have said that out loud, papa._

“Sirius Orion Black! Our _children_ are not _collateral damage_!” her mother hissed as she swatted at him, careful to miss the toddler in his arms.

“Hey! I was only kidding!”

Her parents’ argument—along with the snakes’ amusing commentary—faded to the background as the Unspeakable’s came back. “We believe that with the Curse being gone from your Core, you could both make a True Horcrux and the Bond will be repaired.”

“What is a Horcrux?” she asked, “I’ve heard mentions of it, but, I haven’t been able to find any more information on it other than what’s in _The Intricacies of Soulmates_.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the Unspeakable’s who answered her, but, her Mate. “A Horcrux is when a person takes a piece of their soul and puts it into another object in a foolish attempt to live longer. It was taken from the original, a True Horcrux. A True Horcrux is created when a True Mate Bond has Soured, and the affected Mates both created a Horcrux, but instead of putting their soul into an object, they put it into each other. Because a True Horcrux is so rare, it is typically referred to as the secondary of the two, not the first.”

“Unlike a normal Horcrux,” one of the Unspeakable’s cut it, “murder isn’t required because the soul had already been torn when the Bond Soured. You aren’t required to eat each other’s body parts either, but—ouch! Sorry, sorry, that’s not important, _I said sorry, stop hitting me_! Anyways, moving on, we can have a Ritual space set up in the next couple of days, and, if you want, you two can perform the Ritual and save your Bond, and your lives.”

“What happens if they don’t do it?” Lilian asked softly from the left side of the bed where she had only moved slightly when her father had tried to nudge her in front of him as ‘collateral damage’.

“Well, they…eventually…die. First, Hera would die, and then Tom would die. True Soulmates can’t live when their Mate dies.”

“The True Horcrux, would it act like a Secondary Horcrux and allow us to live longer?” Tom questioned with a tone that indicated it was a purely academic question—she knew him too well for him to be able to ask questions with a reason behind it and not be able to realize it.

“It’s not really known. All that _is_ truly known is that the Pairs who _have_ done the Ritual lived long, happy lives, and died together. Well, except for Herpo Katsaros and his own Mate, Eleonora…they’re still alive, but, considering Herpo discovered the Secondary Horcrux, it is not surprising that they are still alive today. They actually appear to be only a few years older than your father, and are quite nice people—” Hera blinked rapidly as she looked at Tom and ignored the babbling of the Unspeakable about someone who appeared to quite possibly be his idol.

“Herpo the Foul is still _alive_?” she hissed.

“What _I’m_ more shocked about is that he had a True Soulmate,” he whispered back.

“Anyways!” the ‘leader’ of the Unspeakable’s cut in, “we’ll let you two discuss it, and while you decide, we’ll get the room ready just in case you decide to do it.”

| ~~}(HJPB){~~ |

It was late when the two were finally given the privacy they wanted to discuss the Ritual.

“What do you want to do?” he asked as he stroked her cheek softly. They were currently tangled together in the hospital bed, and looking at them, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Their familiars rested on the bed next to theirs and were deep asleep under extensive warming charms.

“I don’t want to die, Tom,” she murmured as she looked into his eyes. “I want to be with you for as long as possible.”

He pressed a soft kiss that had her toes curling and her heart thundering wildly in her throat. “Then we do the Ritual. As soon as we can.”

* * *

“Are you ready?” Tom asked from where he stood next to her in the Headmaster’s office.

His Mate took a deep breath. “Yes.”

She leaned heavily on him, and they were both dressed in Ritual Clothing. Sirius had gotten him a pair of handspun cotton pants inscribed with Runes he had never seen before that rested low on his hips, and he wore a robe over his bare torso. His Mate wore a handspun cotton dress that brushed against the floor, also stitched with Runes he had never seen before. The neckline of the dress was wide, and her shoulders were bare, and her Words glinted in the bright light. He knew that when he removed his outer robes that his Words would be visible due to the waistline of the pants.

“Are you ready?” she questioned as she looked up at him.

He brushed his nose against hers and kissed her lips softly—and ignored the cooing from her mother and the Headmaster, and the poorly hidden squeals from her father.

“As long as you’re by my side, I can do anything,” he whispered—this time he sent a scowl towards her father and was deeply disturbed to see him twisting slightly as his hands were fisted and pressed against his mouth as girlish squeals escaped.

Headmaster Dumbledore—hopefully as deeply disturbed by the display as he was (but, judging by the grin on his face, he doubted it)—opened and activated the floo, and the True Soulmates stepped in, and stumbled out in the Department of Mysteries. In front of them was an Unspeakable who gestured for them to follow.

They were led into a room that was filled with candles, dried fragrant herbs, and had a Ritual Circle carved into the stone ground. The deep gouges of the carved Circle were filled with led, tin, iron, gold, copper, silver, and antimony—the only reason he knew exactly what metals were used was because their corresponding Runes were etched on the outskirts of the marbled metals.

His outer robe was removed by a short Unspeakable and together they were ushered into the Circle. They were then adjusted so they stood on opposite sides with enough space in between them that when their arms were stretched forward, they could hold hands easily.

“Did you read and listen to the Ritual that was sent to you?” They both nodded. “Good. You’re going to cut a line on each of your palms and hold hands with your fingers entwined, and you are going to chant the words. Do you have any questions?”

“Is it guaranteed to work?” he asked.

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost his Hera, his Mate, his Light.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to control the Primordial Monster that resided inside him if she did die—who knew what damage he would bring upon the world in the time between her death and his.

“Yes.” The tightness in his chest that had plagued him for the last four days—since he found out about the Souring—eased slightly, and the roaring Beast calmed only a bit. He knew that everything would be better when his Hera was healthy once more.

The two Mates turned to each other and smiled at one another before they were handed Ritual Daggers and began. They both cut long, diagonal lines on both of their palms before they gripped each other’s hands and started to chant in Olde Latin.

_I take my tattered soul,_

_and give you a piece,_

_for you are my other half._

_May you hold it close to you_

_and may you grant to me_

_a piece of your own soul._

_I give thee myself,_

_wholly and eternally,_

_so together we may be,_

_for all Eternity._

Fire.

Nothing.

* * *

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead.”

Hera grinned and sat down next to her Mate and leaned against his shoulder after she dropped her bag on the floor next to the bed. He closed the book he read and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. “How was class?” he asked softly as he ran his long fingers through her hair.

She groaned softly at the feeling and leaned further into him. “It was good. How are you doing?”

“I’m better. I should be able to leave later tonight, or early tomorrow. Did I miss anything?” She knew he didn’t mean class material, because he was already ahead of the seventh years.

“B-Lord finally beat Hermes during a mock duel.”

A shocked laugh escaped his lips, and her heart warmed to see him smiling again. “How did he do _that_?”

“He kissed her. Apparently, it was their first kiss.” Tom hummed low in his throat as he leaned more heavily on her.

They had done the True Horcrux Ritual the week before, and while she had recovered quite well, her Mate had not. Apparently, that was reported and assumed—how ill _that_ made her—that was normal, but still…she worried.

Assumptions _always_ made her worry.

But, as she thought about it, it made sense. Her soul was already used to the tear because it had been torn earlier, and _more_ than Tom’s had been, due to the fact that the Souring occurred because of the Curse that had been placed on _her_. It made sense that her Mate needed to get used to the larger tear, but it worried her that while she hadn’t really noticed it until two years after it occurred, that his was reacting so strongly.

One thing that they _didn’t_ need to get used to at the moment—because they already had gotten used to it—was having the other’s soul in their bodies. Now, all that needed to happen was they needed to settle down.

Like seriously, holding hands shouldn’t feel like he was _licking her Words_.

“I have decided that I don’t like going to class without you,” she muttered as she crawled into his lap and curled into his arms despite the fact that Unspeakable’s were currently _everywhere_ she looked—it was the drawback of being in the Healing Ward of the Department of Mysteries.

Her Mate laughed lowly and kissed her forehead, and they both sighed at the skin-on-skin contact. “I don’t like it either.” They were in silence for a few moments longer—both more than content to be with each other after a long day of separation—before he spoke. “Did you bring me more homework?” he begged.

Amusement bubbled in her. “Only you, Tom Riddle, only you,” she said fondly. She wrestled her way out of his arms and quickly grabbed her bag. He pulled her back onto the bed and they sat side by side while he dug through it and pulled out their matching assignments. “Actually, you know, know that I think about it, I think Hermes would beg for homework too.”

“She’s a swot, of course she would.”

“You’re a swot too, love.”

He curled an arm around her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss, and she swore she died and went to heaven as his tongue stroked hers. “But you love me any way.”

“ ** _Always_**.”

* * *

“Tom!”

He looked up from his minions— _the proper term is friends or acquaintances, Tom love, not_ minions—and smiled softly when he saw his Mate on her broom outside the large, open window. “Yes, my love?”

“This seat is free if you want to join me,” she smiled cheekily as she gestured to the blank space behind her.

He moved to lean against the windowsill and stared at her fondly. “Is it really?” he teased lightly, “are you sure?”

She nodded her head, the grave look on her face belittled by the twinkling of her eyes. “Oh yes. My imaginary friends jumped quite some time ago.” He laughed and his head tipped forward slightly as his shoulders shook. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You know I’m not fond of flying on a broom, my Hera.” She grinned and her eyes glittered in the dying light, and—like every time he saw her—she had never looked more beautiful. She wore her once-clean Quidditch uniform, her already wild hair was windswept, and her cheeks were flushed from both the exertion of practice and the cold.

She was absolutely breathtaking.

“Please, Tom love?” The Beast stirred in pleasure at the name, and then in violence when someone next to him spoke.

“Hera dear, he said no. Now leave, you’re interrupting,” Malfoy snapped from next to him.

His glorious Mate glared at her god-brother. “Don’t forget that I absolutely trashed you in the practice duel we had the other day in prep for OWLs next week, Drakey-poopoo.” He snorted at the nickname and thought the flush on his minion’s face was priceless. “I’m not afraid to do it again,” she hissed as she crossed her arms over her chest and curled her long legs more firmly around the broom handle.

Five of her eight Heir Rings glittered in the dying light on her left hand, while the other three were hidden. She had taken to wearing them after the Yule holidays after she had gotten tired of everyone begging to see them all of the time.

“Why you litt—”

“Draco,” Blaise cut in with a lazy drawl, “do you really want to upset your King by insulting his— _your_ Queen? Not to mention your _god-sister_?”

“But—she’s not even Slytherin! She can’t be the Queen!” Apparently, he decided to forget their relationship for the moment.

Tom found that he was endlessly amused.

“That doesn’t matter,” Theodore piped up, “she’s his Mate; thus, she is Slytherin’s Queen until either they graduate, or Tom loses the position of King, which won’t happen _until_ _they graduate_. Also, you seem to forget that she is Heir Consort Slytherin, thus she is more Slytherin than you could _ever_ be.”

“Come one, mate, stop making a scene,” Blaise drawled again, “imagine what your father will say when he hears about this.”

His Mate laughed and moved closer to the window. “I adore you, B-Lord,” she gasped through soft giggles. The Primal Beast _ached_ with jealousy and his blood burned hot and bright in his veins. “So, Tom love…. What do you say? It was a very long, and very tiring practice, and I want to show you something.”

He made a show of sighing fondly before he handed his bag to Blaise—perhaps a bit rougher than was strictly needed—and lithely mounted the broom behind her. He looked to his friend and rolled his eyes when he winked at him before the True Mates were off.

He really needed to remember to not delay with his Mate, he thought as he stared at the brilliant sunset that _glowed_ behind Hogwarts. His arms were wrapped tightly around his love as they hovered high in the sky.

“I love you, Tom.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and held her just a bit closer. “I love you, my Hera.”

* * *

“Do you trust me?”’

“Of course, I do! But, that’s not the _point_ here.”

“Then what’s the point, my love?”

Hera scrambled for a reason in the face of his complete and utter calmness. “It’s not natural!” She groaned and closed her eyes because she knew that _that_ was the _weakest_ argument she could have come up with. His hand stroked her cheek, and her eyes opened once more, and she pinched him at the gloating she saw in his own eyes.

He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Just because no one else has figured out how to do it before, doesn’t mean it’s not natural. If you think about it, love, it’s probably one of the most natural forms of flying that you can get to.”

Point proven.

She groaned and successfully resisted the urge to stamp her foot into the coarse sand of the beach they were on.

Her family had decided to go tour the black sand beaches in Iceland, and because of some strings her father, Uncle Regulus, Uncle Lucius, Grandpapa Orion, and Dumbledore pulled at the Ministry, Tom now lived with them.

Her Mate took another step towards her, so their chests almost touched, and cupped her face in his large hands. “What’s bothering you, my Hera?”

She leaned into his touch, and her eyes rolled slightly back in her head as she closed them. She finally told him the real reason as to why she was so hesitant. “What if I fall?” she asked. “With a broom, I can guarantee my safety—” she dutifully ignored the low groan (they had very different opinions when it came to that topic—hence the reason they were now _having_ this conversation) “—but, without it…with just my magic…I mean…I’m a hormonal teenage girl, I can’t really control it that well right now. At least, not as well as you can. What if I lose control while flying?”

He took the last step between them and wrapped his arms around her bare waist and pulled her close to him.

They both wore swimsuits—he wore dark green swim pants that showed off his Words, and she wore a dark blue halter bikini top that partially covered her own Words, and silver swim shorts that went to just below mid-thigh—and the amount of skin touching made her head spin.

Ever since they had created the True Horcruxes, skin-on-skin contact had become near indecent with the strong feelings it caused for the both of them—even jut holding hands. They had thought that once the Horcruxes had settled down, that they’d be able to touch and not have to fight to concentrate on the world around them, but were quickly proven wrong as it had been nine months since they had done it, and the pieces had settled down three months prior.

Her head tipped forward against her will and she pressed a kiss to the skin above his heart, and he dropped one to her neck. She nuzzled his neck with her forehead and wrapped her own arms around him.

“ **Do you trust me**?” he repeated.

She groaned as her already declining will to fight him quickly started to dissolve at the dark, sibilant tone that filled her ears. She pulled herself closer to him and nipped at his neck. “ **Cheater** ,” she grumbled.

“ **Slytherin, love, remember? Do you trust me**?” he repeated, and heat burned in her veins when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the skin of her neck.

“ **With my entire soul**.”

“ **Then trust that I won’t let you fall. I’ll be right next to you the entire time, and if you feel unsteady, I’ll carry you. The only time that I will ever let you fall, my love, is when you’re falling in love with me**.”

A silly grin crossed her face, and she nodded her head. “ **Okay**.”

| ~~}(SOB){~~ |

Sirius wrapped his arms around his wife’s pregnant waist and gazed out at the sight from where they stood on the edge of the cliff. Their eyes trailed after their eldest child with fondness as their younger children played in the water below with his parents, and Regulus watching over them with his Mate and their children.

“They’re so happy together,” his Mate commented as she leaned into his arms. He felt a soft thumps below his hands and grinned at the proof that his twins were happy and healthy.

Hera’s laughter reached his ears and he nodded. “She was always such a happy kid…but _Merlin_ …I didn’t think the levels of happiness she’s shown since she met Tom were even possible.”

“I know. It’s just so…pure. Looking at them, it’s hard to believe that that level of happiness is even possible for us mere mortals who don’t have Silver Words. But also, it’s proof that even the worst things in the world can bring happiness.”

His heart clenched painfully in his chest when his daughter did three large loop-de-loops in the air, high above the ocean with her Mate close behind her in the maneuvers. “You know, he asked for my blessing,” he commented idly after his heart calmed down.

“Really?” He hummed. “For what?”

He playfully nipped at her ear at the teasing tone. “To marry her. He knows they can’t get married until he turns 17 in December, but he said he wanted to ask her as soon as he could.”

“What did you say?” Severna leaned further into his embrace.

“I told him no.”

“Sirius Orion Black! You better not have told him no!” His wife’s angry voice echoed around them, and his daughter and her Mate stopped in the air and looked at them with their heads tilted to the side.

He waved them on and squeezed his angry Mate as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Of _course_ , I didn’t tell him no. I told him that if he hadn’t proposed by the end of the trip, _I’m_ doing it for him.”

His wife snorted softly. “I love you, my Mate,” she whispered before she tilted her head back. He eagerly gave her the kiss she silently asked for and nuzzled her neck after.

“I love you, _always_.”

* * *

It was late, and as they walked along the beach, he conjured candles to form a trail on either side of them, and in front of them. He had tried asking her every day for the last three weeks, and had—unfortunately—always backed out at the last bloody second. It was the last day of the trip, and, as he had been informed earlier that evening, if he didn’t ask her himself _tonight_ , _Sirius_ would do it _tomorrow_.

He would _not_ allow that to happen, even if he had to poison the man in his sleep—not enough to kill him, _obviously_ , but enough that he wouldn’t _ask_.

The Two Mates slowly made their way to the shore, and the cold mid-August water rushed over their bare feet as the tides moved. He stood behind his Hera and wrapped his arms tightly around her, and tried to ignore the painful thuds of his heart in his chest as her dress brushed against their legs in the sea breeze.

It was quite possibly the first—and hopefully _last_ —time that the Primordial Beast cowered.

“Hera?”

“Hmm?”

Good. She didn’t seem to notice the slight stutter.

She leaned back against his chest and tilted her head back, and her eyes seemed to glitter in the soft moonlight. The crown of her head rested against the top of his sternum, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the Emrys Ring.

As Magical Heir Consort to the Great Line, he had access to her Vaults as well, and he had ended up going into _some_ of their Vaults—which had been over 30 that he entered (and that was just the ones with _jewelry_ in them—he hadn’t gone into the ones that didn’t have what he was looking for, and after the three days he had spent looking, he didn’t think he _wanted_ to)—to look for a wedding ring for his love, and it was the one he felt fit the most with her personality, if not looks wise, history wise—he thought both fit her.

It was a pleasant bonus that Merlin’s wife, Gwendolyn, wore the ring when they were married, and it had become the official Emrys Wedding Ring for descendants until the Line died out, and it was left to Mother Magic to determine the next Lord and Lady Emrys.

The Ring was fairly simple—compared to all of the other’s he looked at—but it was near breathtaking in its simplicity. It was a slightly antiqued silver ring with a large, triangular trillion cut diamond and a thick band that had small solitaire cut diamonds in the middle of it. The Ring had enough protections and spells on it, he would be content with her safety, even if he wasn’t right next to her—the Beast was a fickle thing.

He held the Ring up and would insist until the day he died, that his hand did not tremble—it did.

“Will you marry me, Hera?” he whispered in a weak voice that also trembled.

She turned in his arms and grinned as she wrapped her own arms around his neck. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled away enough to slip the Ring onto her finger, and they watched as it resized to fit the slim digit before he kissed her again.

“Come on! I get that it’s normal to kiss after you get engaged, but I’d very much prefer it if you _didn’t_ devour my daughter!”

“Sirius Orion Black!”

“What?”

“Carry on you two, I’m going to throw my husband into the fire now.”

“Wait—no! I’m sorry! Don’t eat my daughter!”

It was a shame that the two were laughing too hard to continue celebrating their recent relationship change—to them at least.

Sirius was all too pleased for his wife’s liking, and she made it _very_ well known when he slept on the couch that night.

* * *

_Seven Years Later_

She knocked lightly on her husband’s desk. “Is this seat taken?” It had been a long day, and she missed him terribly, even though she had seen him a couple hours before at lunch.

He looked up from the pile of papers he was grading and grinned tiredly at her. “No, go ahead.” Rather than allowing her to sit on the chair across from him, as she had planned due to the fact that she was right next to it, he reached over, grabbed her hand, and pulled her down into his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close to him as he breathed in her scent. “How was class, love?”

“It was good. James and his Mate got into an argument that ended up with them destroying the entire classroom, but it was fun nonetheless.”

He snorted and nuzzled her neck. She spotted documents marked with the Gringotts symbol, and knew then that his exhaustion was not just work related. She sympathized as she thought about the large stack in her own office.

“What did your brother and Michael fight about this time?” The two fought often, and their arguments usually ended up with the two kissing each other senseless, or destroying their entire surroundings. The outcome depended on the day, the argument, how many times that argument had occurred, and how the argument had ended the last time.

She didn’t understand Romantic Soulmates.

Blaise and Hermione often solved their arguments the same way…only theirs had more… _lasting_ consequences, she thought as she remembered the fact that her best friend was currently pregnant with her third child and due any day.

The child had been conceived after they had an argument about getting a house elf—B-Lord happened to win that, and they had a lovely house elf named Snoopy that Hermione paid handsomely.

She then thought of her five siblings, and realized that her parents most-likely solved their problems the same way.

Gross.

“Who the better dueler was,” she answered after a moment.

He smirked against the skin of her neck, and a hand moved to cup her Words from behind—he went under her shirt and up her back (she was constantly confused as to why he did that). “And…being the dueling instructor, you just…happened to encourage them?”

She pulled away and nipped his nose when he looked up at her. “Hey! You do the same thing in your NEWT level classes!”

“Yes, but I don’t allow your sister to blow the entire room up.”

She smirked, she couldn’t help it. “Yes, instead you allow her to blow up the entire corridor.” She had been a sixth year at the time, and was dealing with hormones.

He groaned. “One time. That was _one_ time!” A knock on the door interrupted their playful argument. He moved his hands to more respectable places— _outside_ of her clothing—but didn’t allow her off of his lap. It was something the students were used to at this point. “Come in.”

The door opened and Lilian stepped in. “Hey, sis. I just came from potions and mum asked me to give this to you.” She held out a large glass bottle with a light blue liquid in it. “I came here first because this is where you usually are when you aren’t teaching.”

True.

Very, very true.

“Thanks, Lil. How’s your day been so far?” she opened the bottle and took a sip of the potion and her stomach stopped its uncomfortable churning.

“It’s been good. Studying for NEWTs is killing me though.”

“Have you set up a study group yet?” Tom asked from behind her. She squeezed the hand that rested on her stomach at the concern he felt through the True Horcrux Bond over her taking a potion that he didn’t know what it was, or even what it was for.

“Yeah, we’re meeting today for the first time, but still. How did you two survive? And you were even Head Boy, Tomalong!” She draped herself over the plush chair across from them and threw her hand over her forehead in Pure Drama.

“We studied. We ate. We cried. We had each other,” Hera answered as her husband wrestled the bottle out of her grasp and sniffed it, much to the delight of her and her sister.

“What is this?” he asked softly. “It smells like it could be an anti-nausea, but it also smells like it could be a scent-suppressant. Hera, what aren’t you telling me?” he whined.

She rolled her eyes fondly and looked to Lilian whose mouth hung open. “Perhaps it’s best that you go get ready for your study group, baby sister.”

There was a clear order in the tone that she used.

Her sister smirked with a knowing glint in her eyes before she bid the True Mates adieu. “Hera love? Is everything alright? Why are you taking a potion that I’ve never heard of before? What does it do?”

She kissed his jaw and smiled at him. “Mama created a potion for me because the potions that I was taking before weren’t really helping the problem.”

His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. “What problem?”

“Morning sickness.”

“You’re—” his words cut off as shock took over his face and his jaw went slack.

“Yep.”

“How long—”

“A week. I kept trying to tell you, but you kept distracting me.” She glared playfully at him.

“How far—” he cut off again as his hands pressed against her still flat belly.

“About a month. I’m due just after school lets out for the summer.”

He looked at her, and his eyes shone with happy tears. “I love you, my Hera.”

“I love you, too, my Tom.”

“ _Always_ ,” they whispered in unison as they pressed their foreheads together.

“ **What about me**?”

“ **And me**?”

“ **And me**?”

“ **And me**?”

“ **Don’t forget about me**!”

Hera looked at her Mate in mock horror. “Remind me _why_ we let Posidion and Nagini breed together?” The two snakes had been breeding together since the middle of their seventh year, and they had ended up keeping five of the offspring over time.

“Because they threatened to choke us to death until we did.”

“Ahh…yes. I remember now. It was a dark place that night.”

Tom snorted. “Maybe your dad was right…maybe they _are_ a bad influence on us.”

“ **I take great pride in that compliment, Silver Mate** ,” Posidion hissed as he entered the room with Nagini next to him.

“ **As do I, hatchlings** ,” she looked to Hera, “ **did you tell him yet**?”

“Nagini knew before me!?”

“Hey—don’t give me that look! She found me puking my guts out a week ago and told me to go to the healer. She, Posidion, and the Hatchlings from Hell practically dragged me to and from Madam Pomfrey.”

Tom pouted, and she fell in love with him all over again.

* * *

_And yet, still we stand_

_Ready to come back_

_For all of the Tomorrows._

_Always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, I struggled with ending it.


End file.
